Tales of A Grandmother
by mcj
Summary: NOT MOVIE-VERSE It's Grandma's birthday and tonight she's leaving no story untold. STORY COMPLETE
1. The Prologue A Grandmother on the Loose

_Author's Note - Thanks to all the wonderful people who encouraged me to write another Fanfic. This is a story about how a love of family and a love of life can over-ride the toughest of circumstances. I hope you enjoy it. Yours .... mcj_

**TALES OF A GRANDMOTHER**

**PROLOGUE - A GRANDMOTHER WITH A MISSION**

Hi there and good evening!

My name is Josephine Alice Tracy. My friends call me Josie actually and you can too if you stay around long enough to hear what I am going to tell you about the things that go on around here.

There's a lot I won't be able to tell you because I am a member of International Rescue, a top secret rescue organisation founded by my son Jeff and staffed by my five grandsons and a few other brilliant people who have grown to be like members of our family.

Oh dear, Jeff won't be too pleased that I told you that but I'm sure I can trust you not to tell anyone. You wouldn't be here if you weren't worth trusting.

However, if I can't talk about International Rescue, I do have a lot I can tell you about my son and my five grandsons and the other members of our team who live on this island in the middle of the beautiful Pacific Ocean. In thinking about what I just said, I probably wasn't supposed to tell you where our Base is either. Well it's not as if I gave you any specifics.

Right?

Please forgive me.

It's obvious I'm making rather a mess of introducing myself at the moment.

I guess that comes from being old, although I don't look upon myself as old, more like I'm experienced in the ways of the world.

It would be easier to tell you things you should know rather than things you're not supposed to, even though you know about them anyway. Does that make sense to you? If it doesn't just remember, I'm old.

Well, what I can say is that I am stuck up here in my bedroom at the moment like some fugitive from the law. My bedroom is a beautiful, tranquil place to be. It overlooks the blue water of the Pacific Ocean and I love sitting out on my balcony taking it all in. However, I don't love the fact that I am up here pretending not to know that my son has arranged a surprise birthday party for my seventy-fifth birthday.

My birthday is tomorrow and as I speak to you, he and four of my grandsons are downstairs making the final arrangements for it. My fifth grandson Alan is currently on duty in Thunderbird 5 - oh dear I don't think I was supposed to say that either. Well too bad; I have and it's certainly no secret now.

Anyway to be quite frank with you, that silly son of mine doesn't think I know what they are up to down there locked behind closed doors. They think I think they are having a meeting about improvements to the communications link in Thunderbird 5. You'd think they would have learned by now that trying to pull the wool over my eyes is a waste of time.

I will tell you this right now, I know everything around here. It's my business to know and over the years it has been fortunate that I have known quite a few things I'm not supposed to. It's changed a lot of things that could have happened around here for the better and those grandsons of mine are lucky I look out for them like I do. Well I'm kind of committed to that more than just any old Grandma. I promised their mother I would look out for them only a few minutes before that sweet little girl died in the arms of their father.

My family, the Tracy family, is a very tight, close and loving one. I am proud to say that about us and every word of it is true. Don't get me wrong; we are not perfect, far from it, as you'll see later on.

We have our moments because of the huge variation in personalities that live within our ranks. On the whole though, I think I've held them all together pretty well. Even though I'm seventy-five years old tomorrow I know which buttons to push in each of my grandsons to keep them in check and I have been pretty successful in avoiding too many disasters with the five of them over the years.

Five grown men with their own opinions all living under one roof with their Father in charge is a task in itself but I have to admit it is much better these days than all that time ago when there were five little boys living under one roof with a Father not in charge of anything, least of all himself.

Jeff raising his little boys alone ...the memory sometimes brings a tear to my eye ... but then other times it can also make me laugh.

He was such a wonderful Father to his little ones despite how hard it was for him to cope. Please believe me when I say there were some really funny moments as well as the very poignant ones during that difficult time.

My son Jeff is simply wonderful and the two of us have been through such a lot together these past twenty one years.

It's my ambition to tell you a little about Jeff and each of the boys before I go on to tell you some very personal things about all of them. None of them will like it but that's too bad as far as I'm concerned. It will serve them right for thinking I'm silly enough to be fooled by this surprise party.

Jeff, my only son, is a billionaire. It is a bit of a long story really. Jeff started out on a wheat farm in Kansas and when he left High School he wanted to be in the Air Force instead of following in his Father's footsteps. That certainly didn't go down too well with his Daddy that was for sure.

But there I go again rushing ahead with details.

Jeff has a captivating history of his own.

But he's done it tough the last twenty years without his precious wife Lucy by his side. She was his world, his life and his soul and when she died I'm afraid to say a part of him died too.

At least he still has his boys and despite the odd rocky patch, they love, admire and respect him more than anything. I don't know anyone else with five sons who can say they haven't gone through some rocky patches in their journey through life.

Jeff doesn't know how lucky he is. He missed most of the bad ones. I sorted them out well and truly before he got wind of them believe you me!

Anyway that's enough about Jeff for the moment.

Let me tell you about Scott, my eldest grandson. He's twenty nine now and I've always called him Jeff's apprentice. He's followed in his Father's footsteps in almost every aspect of his life and he continues to do so as Jeff carefully grooms him to one day take over International Rescue.

However much to my disappointment he's fallen well behind his Father in the finding of some love in his life.

It's a real shame. He's such a fine man and deserves much more fulfilment in his life than travelling to the mainland every few weeks. I know he's tired of being a playboy and simply wants to settle down with a wife and children of his own. As his Grandma I can see it in his eyes.

But it's hard to find a wife when your career won't allow you to trust anyone and you can't bring them home even for a simple visit. Actually it's a bit of a sore point with me. Jeff's insistence for top secrecy is admirable but the toll it's taking on his sons, particularly Scott, bothers me a great deal.

You need very few words to describe my Scott. Jeff's Apprentice suits him fine.

Virgil comes next. He's twenty six years old and he is the artistic one of the family. He can do everything that boy. He can sing, paint, and play the piano just like his mother could. He even looks exactly like his Mother which really upsets Jeff sometimes. I keep telling him God made Virgil like that because he was going to take Lucy away. Virgil is such a thoughtful, sensitive young man, just as Lucy was sensitive and I love him very dearly.

I'll tell you a bit more about Lucy later on too. She was a beautiful little English girl who completely stole my Jeff's heart from the moment they met. He loved her very deeply and even though she's been gone from us for over twenty years he still loves her and simply won't let her memory go.

But that's another big sore point and one I don't want to discuss now.

Now where was I? Oh yes introductions.

My third grandson's name is John. He's twenty four and he is the family Starman. John is an astronaut like his Father and has studied and loved the stars since he was small. Oh dear I didn't tell you about Jeff being an Astronaut did I? Well I'll tell you about that later after I tell you about his time in the Air Force.

Johnny is a quiet retiring boy and I worry about him being up there in that satellite all alone. Jeff tells me that under that quiet exterior he is quite a devil of a boy. I don't think Jeff knows this son very well if he thinks that. But you can make up your own mind about John when I tell you about him.

I have two other grandsons who were born very close together and both of them are very different to the three older ones. It was like Jeff and Lucy drew some sort of line down the middle between where common sense started in their first three children and where it ended before the last two. It's probably because they were both not meant to be born. Jeff told me he was stopping at three children and I know how that all went wrong too. I'll tell you again. I know everything.

You'll see how different these youngest two are once I tell you about them.

Gordon came first. He's twenty two. He's got red hair and a cheeky face and one not so endearing attribute. Gordon Cooper Tracy is the practical joker of the family. I don't know where in the devil he got his warped sense of humour from or his red hair and his honey brown eyes. Not the Tracy family that's all I can say. Jeff always used to tease Lucy that Gordon's Father must have been the milkman not him

Hardly likely.

Those two were in Kansas when that boy was conceived so it was definitely no milkman. Not only that Gordon's got his Father's look in his eye and his way of doing things. He is a delightful boy despite his annoying practical jokes. Actually between you and me he gave us all a bit of scare a while back when he was still in the World Aquanaut Security Patrol. We nearly lost him in a hydrofoil accident and that was more frightening than when Jeff and Lucy nearly lost him as a premature baby at birth. I nearly had a heart attack on both occasions so as you can imagine I'm pretty close to Gordon.

There I go again rushing ahead and trying to tell too many Tales at once.

I simply can't help myself.

Then there's the baby, young Alan. The whole family has a name for our youngest member and that's the wild-child. You'll see why when I tell you a few stories about that boy. He's about to turn twenty one and I have to admit I'm particularly fond of him. Not that I don't love all my grandsons equally. Let me assure you I do. The difference with Alan is that I raised him from the day he was born. His mother died shortly after giving birth to him and I feel I owe him just that little bit more of my heart because his mother never got to love him with her own. Even before he was born she didn't let herself get caught up with her last little boy. There's another story to tell. I hope you've got a while to wait because that story is sad too.

As I have thoughts of family, I begin to think of those who are no longer with us in this life and in thinking about them I'll let you know I have more than a Tale or two to tell about them too.

My husband Grant had to die to get away from me; that's what Jeff once said when he was feeling more than a little exasperated with my input into family business. He calls it interference. I call it input. But I know he doesn't mean the things he says. Without my input he could have made some very big mistakes raising those boys and I am more than very sure that he knows that..

"Go to hell" I used to say to Grant if I didn't agree with him. Grant would always reply, "...that's where you're going Josie and soon too if you don't watch yourself!"

Well he went a long time before I did and I might say if Grant Tracy is in hell that's where I want to be too. I adored that man and I miss him very much.

Now look at me getting all choked up. I'm supposed to be telling you about the living, not the dead.

Our family has a few other people living with us as part of International Rescue. They are our extended family and whilst I know Jeff will kill me for telling you their names, I'm going to anyway. I have some stories about them too that they think I don't know about.

Firstly, there's Kyrano. He's the family retainer who keeps an eye on Jeff's diary and attends to all his needs. He and I didn't see eye to eye at first but that's a story I will tell you later. I still can't believe Jeff thought I was ready to retire when I was sixty-three and brought Kyrano out here to take over from me.

Retire! I couldn't believe it! I've never been angrier about anything in my life.

Oh dear there I go getting myself agitated. It can't be good for me at seventy-five.

Kyrano has a beautiful daughter Tin-Tin. She is a sweet child and is a year older than our young Alan. Those two think I don't know what they're up to in the evenings when everyone else goes to bed. They try to act all angelic the morning after but believe me nobody's fooled in this house and least of all me.

The funny part is I don't really mind that much. I might be old but I'm not a prude and they are definitely meant for each other. It's actually my dream and master plan at the moment to see them get married. Let's face it; with Jeff's rigid rules about relationships, these two are my only shot at getting some great-grandchildren before I die.

To be honest with you I've got a few suspicions about that too. Tin-Tin hasn't said anything to anyone but she's certainly unhappy about something at the moment and if it's what I'm thinking it is, a certain young Tracy son is about to get a very big surprise.

We also have a shy young man called Albert living here. He stutters a lot and I've a mind to tell him it's because he's such a genius he doesn't give himself time to say everything that's in his head. Jeff tells me to keep my tongue still where "Brains" is concerned. Well I have so far but I still think if he wasn't quite so smart he'd be able to talk to me properly. It irritates me a bit sometimes but as he is the Chief Engineer of International Rescue, I guess I can't afford to say anything.

Well I wonder if the Meeting is over yet. I'm hankering for my evening scotch.

Jeff and I always share a scotch out on the balcony in the evenings and overlook the water.

Living out here is paradise.

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THE MEETING

"Dad, you know she's gonna find out about it. Why don't you just tell her you've planned a party and be done with it?"

"Your Grandmother doesn't know about my plans Gordon. I'm telling you that for a fact. She's up in her room sleeping at the moment and is completely unaware of everything."

"The only reason she's asleep Dad is because she doesn't sleep any other time. Last night I caught her tidying out the cupboards in the hallway next to Tin-Tin's room."

"So what's so strange about that Johnny? They needed doing. Have you ever tried to find anything in there?"

"Virgil, it was three o'clock in the morning!"

"No doubt she was straining her ears to hear if Tin-Tin was talking in her sleep about Alan."

"I'd have helped her if I knew she was up to that."

**_"You?"_**

"What's that supposed to mean Scott?"

"You hate getting out of bed in the middle of the night Virgil."

"I wouldn't if I thought I could find out something concrete about Alan and Tin-Tin."

"What do you mean something concrete? It's as plain as the nose on your face what's going on between them."

"Scott can you please tell me how this conversation somehow turned around to be about Alan and Miss Kyrano?"

"Sorry Dad. I honestly don't know."

"Listen here ... as far as I'm concerned the only thing going on around here at the moment is a party so pay attention and quit making fun of your brother. He's not even here to defend himself."

"Yes Sir."

"OK Sir."

"Sorry Sir."

"Man ... a guy can't have any fun around here."

"Gordon!!!!!"

"Sorry Dad."

"Thank you. Now Brains has agreed to go up to Thunderbird Five for twenty four hours so Alan can attend the party. I've told your Grandmother he's going up there to install a new communications link so can you all please play along with the story for once."

"Doesn't she believe you Dad?"

"What do you mean by that? Of course she believes me!"

"Dad this is Grandma."

"There is nothing unusual about Brains going up to the satellite Scott."

"And John bringing back Alan?"

"Hell she doesn't have to know he's doing that!"

"She'll find out somehow Dad."

"No she won't. How will she?"

"She's found out everything else we've ever done around here."

"Scott's right Dad."

"Well she'd better not find out that's all I'll say. Now what's the time if you don't mind me asking. "

"Half past five Dad."

"I'd better organise her afternoon scotch for her or she'll start getting suspicious."

"What do you mean start? She's already suspicious Dad."

"She's not Virgil."

"She _IS_ Dad."

"So what's the go with Alan anyway?"

"For goodness sake I only said five minutes ago that there's nothing going on John ..."

"No Sir ... I meant the arrangements."

"Oh I'm sorry son. Err ... I want you to have your brother back here by seven o'clock tomorrow night so as long as you're gone by three that will be fine. Alan can stay the night and head back to the satellite the next morning."

"Staying the night hey?"

"Tin-Tin will be pleased."

"Looks like we'll all be helping Grandma clean out those hallway closets tomorrow night hey Virg?"

"Bad luck Gordie... there's no closets outside Alan's room."

"Damn."

"Boys I've already said that's enough of that. Now I'm going upstairs to wake your Grandmother. I'd appreciate it if you could make sure that when she asks you about the meeting this afternoon you give her some sort of intelligent response about what was discussed."

"Dad I'm sure we've all got the story straight OK?"

"Well I'm relying on you boys."

"Don't worry Dad."

"Not a word."

"I can be as dumb as anybody."

"You sure got that right Gordie."

"Hey smart ass."

"The name's John."

Jeff Tracy shook his head and poured two glasses of scotch before heading in the direction of the elevator.

This was going to be a party to remember and a celebration none of his sons would forget..

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**CHAPTER 1 - THE BILLIONAIRE – PART 1 – THE EARLY YEARS **

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	2. Chapter 1 The Billionaire The early ye...

_Author's Note :- Thank you for the reviews. Despite the negativity one shall struggle on!!!! mcj_

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**CHAPTER 1 – JEFF TRACY -THE BILLIONAIRE- PART 1 -**

**THE EARLY YEARS**

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_**DRINKS WITH JEFF**_

There he is, right on cue, knocking on my bedroom door.

He'll have a scotch in his hand for me as well as a watered down one for himself. He will have told his sons to make sure they tell me the right things about their little "Meeting" and there's no doubt he'll be on his guard too.

I guess I'd better open the door.

"Hello Mother." he says, smiling and walking into the room. "Did you enjoy your rest?"

I knew he'd say that to me.

I take a great deal of pleasure in saying not really and smile as I watch his face fall.

"Is that for me?" I ask him looking at the Scotch in his hand.

"Yes ma'am. Would you care to join me out on the balcony for a while?"

I knew he'd say that too.

"Of course dear." I nod amiably.

We sit together overlooking the beautiful Pacific Ocean talking about the day.

"How was your Meeting about the new communications link?" I ask him and watch with interest to see how he replies.

"Yes ... most fruitful. I've decided to go up to Thunderbird 5 myself tomorrow with Brains and John to have a good look at it."

Lord Jeff you are such a bad liar.

I laugh inwardly.

How lame is that excuse? He and John were going up there for one reason and one reason only; to fetch Alan for the surprise party.

OK maybe Brains is actually going to install a new communications link up there but it's a pretty big co-incidence.

"Well I hope you'll be back for Dinner son." I point out. "It's my seventy fifth birthday you know."

Swallowing the rest of his scotch he smiles and reaches out to squeeze my hand with his.

"I know Mother. Seventy five is a wonderful age. I'm only disappointed I can't allow young Alan to be with us."

Yeah sure you won't allow it Jeff. You know how important my youngest grandson's attendance is to me.

I decide to play along with the charade.

"Here's a suggestion dear. Why don't you leave Brains up there and bring Alan back for Dinner?" I enquire and smile as I watch him squirm. He is starting to wonder if I know.

"Mother you know that I can't leave Thunderbird Five without an Astronaut." he says trying to sound authoritative. "I know you'd like Alan to come home but it's impossible to arrange it I'm afraid."

As I said before Jeff you are a really bad liar.

That son of mine is such a special man; transparent but special.

I'd like to tell you more about him now.

His is a long story and takes in three parts of his life, the early years which made him the man he is, the tough years that made him something special and the golden years where he is now.

_oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

_**Stage 1 - The Son on the Farm**_

Jeff Tracy, my only son was born in Kansas and was raised on the wheat farm where Grant and I lived our whole married life. Grant was a fifth generation farmer and when I agreed to say I do, I agreed to live a simple and basic life, totally different to the affluent manner in which I had been brought up.

If the truth is to be known, I never really liked the farm overly much but I loved Grant Tracy and if that's where I had to be to be with him then that's where I had to be. As a result that's where our son was raised.

Grant felt strongly about the over population of the world back then. When I was young there was a lot of famine in overseas countries and Governments didn't seem to get the message across about the problem being aggravated by overpopulation. He was a thinker as well as a doer my Grant and he said to me after Jeff was born that now that we had a son to carry on the Tracy name, it was unnecessary to bring any more children into the world.

I was very disappointed about that.

Grant Tracy made me a very happy woman in my young years and I'm not talking in the material sense either but sadly he only ever allowed our love for each other to produce Jeff. Even though I would have liked a daughter Grant was as stubborn as a mule and he made very sure he was unable to Father any more children.

Jeff showed signs of extreme intelligence very early in his life and I knew that whilst Grant had an expectation that our Jeff would follow on in his footsteps and be a Farmer, it wasn't ever going to be like that. After living with Jeff and his boys, all I can say is, Fathers have ideas but the sons don't necessarily agree with them.

Jeff was a good boy and had a special presence about him even when he was quite small. As he grew into a man, his Father instilled in him the responsibility of accounting for his own actions and the importance of hard work in order to achieve success. The Tracy family were decent people going right back through the generations and my Grant was determined that our Jeff wouldn't be the one to let the family down.

There is a story about Jeff in High School which nearly led to the decency label being removed from the Tracy family. He doesn't know I know this but he'd developed a bit of a "feeling" for a pretty little girl who lived on the nearby farm to ours. One night when we all met at a church function the two of them had gone walking together and didn't return for a while.

Well I'm not Josie for nothing am I? I went walking to find them as any self-respecting caring mother would do and heard them necking behind the shed nearby. Well there was a bit of low moaning going on and I was still young enough to know what that meant. So I did the only thing I could to cool the situation off. I called out loud and clear,

"Grant, I think I hear Jeff near that shed there. Go and tell him its time to leave"

Well that was the end of the moaning and Jeff reappeared looking a little stressed not long after. Whilst his hair was a bit messed up, his clothes seemed undisturbed at least. Whew. That was a close call for my sixteen-year-old son.

Jeff graduated from High School as the top student of his year and after school was done he began to think about where he wanted his life to take him. City life really interested him and he was keen to learn what sort of life it would provide. He decided he wanted to go to College in Kansas City and study Engineering.

Well my Grant was a loving Father but he was a steely man who did not approve of his plans for Jeff changing. It angered him that Jeff was thinking about leaving the farm especially when our wheat crop had recently failed.

"You will be taking over things from me one day son," he thundered. "I need you to stay here next year and help me grow a decent crop. Not only that the time is fast approaching when you should start looking for a nice young woman to settle down with. The Tracy's are ordinary people who have what they have by hard work."

I felt sorry for Jeff that day with his Father giving him no choice about his future. As I said earlier, I'd always felt that Jeff had a destiny and a purpose and he was being wasted remaining on the farm. But that wasn't easy for me to say. I was Grant Tracy's wife and I had to back him up where his decisions about Jeff were concerned. He expected me to and feisty as I was back then I knew when to tow the line.

Jeff obeyed Grant without protest and began to work with him on the farm. He even tried to do what his Father wanted and dated a few girls from the surrounding area. He wasn't fussed on any of them.

I knew deep down inside that Jeff was unhappy about his life and whilst I loved Grant dearly, the happiness of my only son was everything to me.

One night when Grant was away at one of his beloved Lodge meetings, I asked Jeff if I could talk to him. He was nineteen then, a very handsome decent young man with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes.

"Yes Momma?" he asked sitting down beside me quietly and looking out into the darkness.

"You're not happy Jeff are you?" I asked him and he never told me an untruth in those days. Not like he does now I might say, especially about this party thing.

He continued to look out towards the wheat fields that he and his Father had nurtured during the summer and watched the moon shine over them.

"No Momma I'm not." was all he said.

He didn't ask for permission to leave the farm to go to College because he knew we couldn't afford it.

He didn't make any complaints.

But he did give me a single honest reply.

"Well if Daddy and I can't afford to send you to College what else do you want to do with yourself?" I asked him.

"I want to fly." he said wistfully looking up at the moon.

"Fly? Fly planes?" I asked quite astonished.

"I want to do more than just fly. I want to go into space and see the world from the moon." he said clearly and with conviction. I watched as his face dropped.

"Even though it's never going to happen to someone like me."

I didn't reply. I sensed he had a lot more to say yet.

"But the Air Force would be a good start. They pay you to learn to fly Momma and I'd really like to do that."

He paused before adding.

"It wouldn't cost Daddy any money to let me go."

It sounded like he was keen to enlist. He must have been thinking about it hour after hour on that tractor for the past two years.

"Well I can tell you now Jeff your Father won't have a bar of the Air Force idea." I said leaning back towards Grant's wishes for Jeff to take the farm. "And the odds of you ever walking on the moon are even more remote."

He hung his head.

"I know ma'am but that's really what I want to do with my life. I wish Daddy understood that."

"You wish Daddy understood what?" boomed Grant's deep voice from the door.

Jeff looked at Grant and I must admit I'd never seen him appear more intimidated. He looked at me apprehensively and I nodded at him to tell his Father what he had just told me.

"Well Daddy, it's like this Sir ... I don't want to stay on the farm." he said quietly. "I want to try something else for a while."

"Of course you want to farm Jefferson." was Grant's reply. "Farming's in your blood."

"No Dad I want to join the Air Force." he said directly before swallowing and lowering his voice.

"Even if you'll only let me go for four years Sir."

Grant was silent for a long time. I didn't know whether he was disappointed or trying to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of this unsettled son of his spending a bit of time in the military to make him wake up to the fact that life here was pretty good.

"Grant sweetie, "I began carefully, "Maybe it would be good for him."

Grant Tracy had a temper and that's where our Alan gets it from I might add. I was worried sick he was going to lose it as he dangerously eyed our tall and handsome son .

"Mmmm... maybe four years in the military will do you the world of good son. " he finally said amiably, "By then I'll be ready to give you the farm to settle down on."

That day was one of the happiest days of Jeff's life. His Father had finally allowed him to spread his wings.

And fly.

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_**Stage 2 - The Career Man **_

My son Jeff doing anything is like someone catching the measles. Once you've got measles they spread like wildfire. I don't know if you know what I mean, but with Jeff, once he's allowed to do something he wants, there's no stopping him. He is relentless until he succeeds.

Jeff entered the Air Force and did his basic training a long way from the Kansas farm he detested so much. Both Grant and I missed him a lot but he was a good boy and telephoned us daily.

It was hard not to be happy for him as I detected such a profound happiness in his voice. He was training to be a pilot and had shown such a natural talent at it that higher authorities were following his progress with intense interest. These authorities were forever on the look out for talent and self-discipline and they were looking in the right direction where Jeff Tracy was concerned.

Grant had given him the discipline. God had given him the talent.

Jeff was posted to Nevada after basic training and continued to thrive in the challenges of Air Force Life. He studied Engineering with a passion that came deep from within him and developed his knowledge and skills to the extent that he was quickly promoted through the ranks of the service.

By the beginning of his fourth year he had been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant and invited to join the elite squadron "Red Flag". In only three more months he was the lead pilot in the Red Flag Defence Squadron. He had a level head under pressure and that stood him in good stead in the eyes of the Authorities who still watched his career progressing at lightening speed.

He was now twenty-three years old and clearly had the military in his blood. There was the fierce reality to be faced by Grant that Jeff wouldn't be returning to the farm. Jeff had made it well known that he intended to remain in the Air Force for another term at the end of his fourth year.

Grant squared that jaw of his and refused to accept it.

"Jeff knows I want him here." he said dangerously. "He will be taking over from me."

Well it shouldn't be hard for you to guess what was going to happen between my stubborn husband and my usually obedient son. Jeff had a mind of his own now and had developed a strong and dominant personality in Red Flag. Not only that, he was doing what he wanted to do with his life and he knew he was good at it. Grant wouldn't be able to pull him back under his thumb now.

Jeff doesn't know I know about the huge argument he had with his Father over his career in the Air Force but rest assured I do know. Grant never said anything to me when Jeff left the farm abruptly after the two of them spent several hours shouting at each other down in the back field. Jeff had come home to try to make his Daddy understand.

Fat chance.

His Daddy didn't want to understand.

I know sometime during the shouting, Jeff ended Grant's dream of passing the farm down to the next Tracy generation. Grant had been devastated but he didn't confide in me how he felt. He probably knew that deep down I supported Jeff's aspirations, something a dutiful wife shouldn't be doing. His heart hardened a bit towards his only son and that made me sad. As I said earlier I didn't really like the farm myself but I cared that my son and his Father were at loggerheads over it.

Jeff's fourth year drew to a conclusion and soon afterwards he contacted me talking so fast I could hardly understand a single word he said.

NASA had approached the Air Force about him joining the NASA Space Programme.

It was his dream come true; his opportunity to travel in space on behalf of the United States.

"It's the new moon mission Mother!" he exclaimed as excited as a two year old. "I can't believe they've asked for me."

"Sweetie that's wonderful" I said, clearly thrilled for him in reaching his ultimate goal.

"They said I have to resign from the Air Force in December at the latest. It means leaving Red Flag ..." his voice tapered off wistfully but just as quickly returned. "But NASA is where I've wanted to go for four years Mom and I can't believe it's finally happening to me."

"Well both your Father and I want it for you too." I said hoping Grant wasn't standing behind me to disagree and spoil Jeff's moment.

"What's all this about NASA Josephine?" came the unwelcome and untimely voice. Trust Grant to show up at the most inopportune moment.

"I'll put your Father on sweetheart." I said giving Grant a warning glance which told him not to ruin this wonderful moment for our son.

"Yeah well Jeff that's good then I suppose." I heard him say with no emotion in his voice.

When he put down the receiver that man got more than just a piece of my mind let me tell you. He got it all, hot-tongue and cold-shoulder for his total lack of enthusiasm.

"I can't believe you'd be so stand-offish towards your own son Grant." I snapped. "All over a stupid farm.."

"Look Josie." he said in his deep and powerful voice. "I know you think the farm is why I feel like I do about Jeff but you don't know the half of it. You have absolutely no idea how scared I am inside that my only son is going to get himself killed up there in the air."

He glared at me.

"And killed for what? Some stupid dream to walk on the moon that's what. Believe me Josephine you don't know everything like you think you do and until you do I'd prefer you kept out of it!"

He completely shocked me with that reply and it was obvious right there and then I didn't know everything.

I didn't realise how worried he was.

But to be honest ... so was I.

_**Stage 3 - The Man in Love**_

Jeff accepted the offer to enter the NASA Space Programme and was given three months to resign from the Air Force. He did so with reluctance and a fair amount of regret but with a look in his eye that glinted at the thought of experiencing everything he had ever dreamed of.

The moon mission was six years away and he'd have to work damn hard over those six years preparing for his new role as an Astronaut. There was study to be done first and then the application of the knowledge he acquired. The young man from Kansas was to be the pilot of the mission and now had the eyes of the world on him.

His picture and background graced the pages of all the papers around the United States, even our little county newspaper. Grant and I became mini-celebrities overnight. We were no longer the parents of plain old Jeff Tracy, we were the parents of "Major Jefferson Grant Tracy" US Astronaut. Worried as he was about Jeff, Grant was very proud.

The selection meant Jeff had to move to Houston which he did immediately after he resigned in Nevada. The Moon mission had created so much international interest that the President of the United States requested that the astronauts selected for training undertake a tour of the larger worldwide air bases as a sort of public relations exercise. There would be parties and receptions and speeches and protocol, the opportunity to talk about the new mission and introduce the new young Major with the brilliant piloting skills.

"Gee Mother." Jeff said to me on the telephone from Texas, "I'm a bit taken back with all of this."

"Jeff enjoy every minute." I said proudly. "But mind you watch your manners with all those dignitaries or else people will have something to say about your upbringing."

Well that was the last time I talked to Jeff for many years as a man in complete control of his senses. The next time we spoke it was like all else had gone out of his head.

He was in London when he rang me in the middle of the night and by the way he sounded it was like someone had run over him with a bus.

"Momma I met someone tonight." he breathed.

"Who?" I asked thinking it was some famous person he'd managed to run into at one of the receptions.

"Lucille Amanda Evans." he breathed almost as if it was poetry. "I met her tonight at the reception."

"A woman? You woke me in the middle of the night to tell me _that_?"

"Momma she's not just any woman. She's perfect. She's got this beautiful brown hair which turns red in the light and the biggest and brownest eyes I've ever seen. And her face momma ... she's just so pretty... you know... in the right sort of way"

There was a silent pause as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"Oh momma I can hardly think straight." he finally added.

I frowned. Hmmm that was painfully obvious but there was no doubt that this young Lucy was. A young man with a bright future like my Jeff would be a real prize for an enterprising English girl with tickets on herself.

I began to get huffy.

She was probably all hair and eyes with nothing between the ears. More than likely she was on the lookout for an instant gravy train to hook herself onto and had zeroed in on my young Jeff. I immediately tried to make him see sense..

"Yes well it was only a reception and you won't be seeing her again anyway. You're leaving London for Paris in the morning aren't you?"

"Uh huh but I asked Lucy to meet me at my hotel tomorrow in Paris for Dinner. She said she'd come. Momma you'd really like her. I know you would."

I pursed my lips to go with the frown. It sounded like a bit of horizontal folk dancing was being planned by this Lucy in Jeff's Paris Hotel.

"Jeff be careful." I warned. "You don't really know this girl."

"Yes I do. She's twenty two years old, she's intelligent and she's pretty. Momma you have no idea how she makes me feel inside. You know if I didn't know better I'd think I'd already fallen in love with her."

"Love! Sakes Jeff don't be so ridiculous. You've only met her once."

"I know Mom but she's the one. I just know she is"

What more can you say to your son when he is thousands of miles away, a grown man and carrying on like a lovesick fool? I just hoped that this Lucy Evans, whoever she was, was happy to have her way with him in Paris and leave him alone to continue his career.

" She's the one" I muttered discontentedly as I baked an apple pie for Grant, "How stupid! She's in England Jeff. You've just been selected to go into space for the United States. What a load of nonsense."

Well it wasn't nonsense I'm afraid. Jeff returned to Houston after the promotional tour and recommenced his training. Six months later Lucy Evans left England and moved in with him.

Now I know I said earlier today that I'm no prude, well that's now. Back then I was completely different and I was more than just a little unhappy at the thought of a Tracy son let alone "my son" "shacking up" with some loosely-moraled little miss from England. What sort of girl was she to leave her parents after only meeting Jeff a few times? No decent young woman did that.

I told Jeff so too.

"Mother. Nothing like that is going on with Lucy and me." he laughed but he sounded a little too happy and little too relaxed for my liking.

"Come on Jeff you live in a one bedroom apartment. For God's sake where is she sleeping? In the bath?"

"Mother I thought you knew everything but if you must know, I'm sleeping on the couch." he replied indignantly.

But it was obvious Jeff was really taken with this girl and when he brought her to the farm a short time later to meet us I had to admit I was wrong. She was a beautiful child inside and out and everything Jeff said about her was true. She was pretty, outgoing and polite. I watched her interact with Jeff and how dotingly Jeff interacted with her. Something inside of me started to agree with what Jeff had said to me right from the beginning.

"She's the one."

I knew I had met the young lady who I would grow to love as my own daughter.

Lucille Amanda Evans ; the young lady who would become the mother of my five grandsons.

Grant of course still wasn't happy about the NASA thing and with Lucy now on the scene supporting his career choice, things weren't improving between him and Jeff. Luckily he was able to hold his tongue during their visit.

"Jeff'll marry that little girl." I said the first night as we turned down our bed for the evening.

"He'd better Josephine." Grant thundered looking across the half darkened room at me. "He's still next door with her in the guest room."

"Jeff said nothing's going on between them." I whispered. "They're probably just talking in there."

"Oh come on Josie what planet are you on?" he snapped and got into bed. I turned off the lights and the two of us just lay there in the darkness. I was tired that evening but if anything was going on between them well I was determined to stay awake and find out. Grant lay with his hands behind his head as we listened to them talking in the room next door.

"I don't know where I went wrong with him Josie. First the Air Force, then NASA, now this. What happened to the decent young kid we raised?"

"Shh Grant." I snapped. "I'm trying to listen."

I heard a badly suppressed giggle before the talking stopped. I didn't hear the door shut to indicate Jeff was returning to his room. I told myself he must be still kissing her goodnight.

Well off course he was!

The minutes drew out. Well if he was still kissing her, he was making a mighty thorough job of it. Surely the two of them had to come up for air soon.

I could feel Grant seething next to me. He could hear what was going on just as much as I could even though there wasn't anything being said. Finally after almost fifteen minutes her voice whispered breathlessly in that accent of hers.

"That was so good Jeff."

Well if Grant had a tether that comment caused him to reach the end of it. My husband had morals and a conscience and he wasn't taking too kindly to his son bringing a young lady into his own home and having the nerve to make love to her in the next room.

He went to get out of bed and go in and bawl the two of them out. Luckily I was still young enough then to beat him to the door. I stood in front of it shaking my head. He stared me down in the half dark room but I refused to move no matter what. I whispered to him that Jeff was a man now and he had to respect that. I stood there defiantly until he went back to bed fuming.

He knew I was right though, so after about ten minutes, his blood pressure subsided a bit and he rolled over on his side and went to sleep, the hard toil of the day in the fields overtaking any fury he felt.

Not me. I could hear them talking again. It would be pretty cramped in that little single bed together, not that they needed much room with what was going on in there. Grant started snoring loudly and both of them must have heard him. They must have assumed both of us were asleep and relaxed their guard a little.

Of course one thing led to another and I had to lie through the whole sordid thing again. I was glad Grant was asleep. He would have thrown me out of the way of the door if he'd have heard them at it again.

Nevertheless neither of us had anything to fear about Jeff's intentions for Lucy. One month later he rang to tell us he had asked Lucy to marry him.

It was certainly a bit of shock and even though I approved I still believed in long courtships. Grant and I had courted for well over three years before I agreed to marry him and I still didn't think I'd known everything I needed to know to be his wife.

Jeff's involvement with Lucille had been very brief; less than nine months and it worried me that they were rushing into things. However Grant and I decided we might as well be happy about it. The girl was sleeping with Jeff in their double bed in Houston so it was better all around if she was wearing his wedding ring.

When I put it that way Grant was all for it but he was still extremely sore at Jeff for the farmhouse incident.

"It lacked respect Josephine." he growled.

Lord Grant if only you knew the half of it ,,,

Jeff was now preparing for the first of his space shuttle launchings and they decided to marry six months after his return. Jeff wasted no time in setting a date. Like I said, once he sets his mind to something, that son of mine is relentless. He wanted Lucy as his wife and he was going to have her.

I remember Grant and I going to Houston to watch the launching. I was so proud, excited and frightened all at once. Grant was simply worried. He was silent in the car for most of the journey.

We met Lucy at the base. She was even prettier than the first time we'd met her. She seemed to have an aura about her. Not only that, she now wore my son's engagement ring. I kissed her and admired the ring. Grant simply nodded in acknowledgement. It was so obvious the two of them had totally different ideas about where they wanted Jeff to head.

"Hello Lucille." he said politely.

"Hello Mr. Tracy" she smiled nervously.

Lucy had trouble working out what Grant thought about her and always seemed ill at ease around him. Today however we all had something in common.

Jeff and his first mission.

Grant and I said a very long and worried goodbye. I fell apart and cried my eyes out. Grant became teary too and hugged Jeff for ages.

We stood back and watched as he said a final goodbye to Lucy. I could see the underlying passion they shared but I also saw her unwavering belief in him. It was like Grant and myself all those years ago. I looked down and saw Grant had taken my hand. I squeezed his tight.

The shuttle launching was a huge success and Jeff loved every minute of his experience. He began to get excited about the moon mission even though it was still quite a few years away.

Then quite unexpectedly Jeff announced he and Lucy were getting married immediately.

He explained to us he was already being put under a lot of pressure with the second mission and he wanted to get the wedding out of the way so he could concentrate.

The wedding was held in Paris and no-one could wipe the smiles off their faces all day long. They were a perfect couple and very very happy.

Grant and I made the most of the romantic setting and while we were doing so we got to meet Lucy's family. They were really nice people and I felt very badly about my first assumptions about Lucy's background.

However Grant found an ally in Lucy's Father. John Bradley Evans wasn't too happy about the whole thing let alone Lucy now taking up permanent status in the United States with Jeff. Like Grant he felt the two of them were rushing into things but even so there was no denying that our children were deeply in love and definitely belonged together.

It was only six weeks later that Jeff telephoned me all news and excitement again.

"Momma. I can't wait to tell you the news. I'm going to be a Father."

I nearly choked. That was certainly quick! I hadn't even unpacked my bags from Paris. But this was the most exciting news ever. I was going to be a grandmother.

"Wow you and Lucy don't fool around do you?" I exclaimed, "When is the baby due dear?"

He paused for a minute but enough for me to get suspicious.

"Ummm late in errr...ummm... May I think."

"You don't sound sure." I frowned.

"Ummm....it's not that we're unsure Momma." he stammered. "Lucy just couldn't remember her last set of dates that's all."

That seemed reasonable enough I supposed. All these artificial methods of stopping what was natural tended to upset a woman's rhythm.

"Well Sweetie..." I enthused. "I couldn't be happier for you both."

I went to tell Grant. He was stunned.

"I hope he remembers that having a family means he needs to settle down now. He should forget about all this NASA rubbish and come on home."

I really did feel sorry for Grant. He just would not give up on his dream for Jeff to take over the farm.

Well my first Grandson Scott Carpenter Tracy arrived on the fourth of April and not the end of May. Jeff tried to tell me that he was a month and a half early but who the hell did he think he was fooling? The baby was a strapping nine pounds fourteen ounces and was perfectly formed and developed.

Grant and I frowned at each other. We knew what the story was all right. Lucy wasn't unsure of her dates. She'd had my grandson fully established inside of her when they'd realised they needed to say "I do" in a great big hurry.

I pretended I was fooled much to Jeff's relief.

Premature baby!

What a load of hogwash!

Nevertheless Scott was a beautiful little boy and very like Jeff in appearance and nature.

I was pleased to see how well Grant had taught Jeff. He was a natural Father and was wonderful with the baby. I felt he had settled down just fine in Houston with his little family but Grant was still unhappy about things. He wanted Jeff to be like him. One child was enough he said and he suggested to Jeff that he do what he had done himself to prevent them from having any more.

Jeff was astounded that at twenty-six years of age his Father would even suggest such a thing to him.

"Dad, Lucy and I intend to have three children." he said firmly. "We've already decided that."

"But Jeff the world has enough problems with overpopulation without the Tracy family adding to them." he stressed.

"My children will not add to the worries of the world Dad. I don't want my son growing up alone like me." Jeff said emphatically. "Scott will have others around him. That's what I want and that's what Lucy wants."

Poor Grant. He was fifty three years old now and the son that had been the centre of his world had spread his wings these past five and a half years and overshadowed him, like the sun eclipses the moon. It seemed to Grant that Jeff no longer wanted his opinion about anything. He decided to stop giving it as well as abandoning his dream of Jeff taking the farm.

Two and a half years and two space shuttle launchings later, Jeff and Lucy brought their second child into the world, another sweet little boy they named Virgil.

Young Virgil was the complete opposite to Scott. He was like his Mother as a mirror gives an image. He was a quiet, happy little baby who loved being cuddled by his Grandma.

Jeff was still besotted with Lucy and they made no attempt to hide how they felt about each other whether they were visiting in Kansas or we were visiting in Houston. Grant shook his head in disgust.

"Number three will be here if they keep that up." he grumbled. "Then numbers four and five. You mark my words Josie, that boy will end up with more than three children to raise if he can't learn to keep his hands off Lucille."

Jeff had now been ordered to Cape Kennedy for the moon mission. He was under extreme media scrutiny now and was finding the going hard. Grant and I helped them relocate to Florida with their two babies, Scott now three and little Virgil who was starting to crawl.

The next few months were critical to the success of the mission and Jeff had little time to concentrate on his family. Lucy was wonderful during that time, taking total control of the two boys and supporting Jeff.

And supporting me. You see two weeks before Jeff got to walk on the moon, my Grant took a fatal heart attack, fell underneath his tractor and died. To my eternal regret, Grant Tracy never got to see his precious only son walk on the moon.

As soon as that little girl of Jeff's got the news she caught the next flight to Kansas with her two babies to help. Jeff wasn't allowed to come because of his commitments to the mission. NASA let him home for the funeral but I know that his inability to support me in my hour of dire need of him caused him great pain and feelings of inadequacy.

They needn't have. His little Lucy was wonderful. She looked after me, we laughed and we cried together. We walked and tended her two babies and I took great comfort in that. I got to know her very well in those long and difficult days and I think that was the time when I actually grew to love her.

She was a happy, delightful young woman with a love of life and an even greater love of her children.

She adored Jeff and she made no secret of how she felt.

And she believed in him.

As he floundered in sea of grief I watched her rise up as the sun rises to comfort and reassure him. She wasn't prepared to see him fail.

She told him after six long years of years study and training he had to stand strong and face his biggest test. She added that even though the timing couldn't have been worse it was up to him to see it through.

Her strength gave me mine.

With the two of us behind him and his Father interceding from the dead, I knew he would do us proud.

I cried my eyes out as he lifted that massive rocket ship at Cape Kennedy in front of the whole world.

The mission was an outstanding success and Jefferson Tracy returned from space as a National hero. In less than ten years he had gone from farming a wheat crop in Kansas with his Father to this.

And now he wanted something else.

However, the first thing he'd wanted on his return was his little Lucy. Nine months and two weeks from his return from the moon John Glenn Tracy was born into the Tracy family; son number three - the last of their planned babies.

This little baby had blonde hair and blue eyes and a mind of his own. He cried morning, noon and night and even though I deliberately stayed on for a few extra weeks after his birth to help Lucy cope. None of us coped very well.

Jeff had made a major decision in his life during the time Lucy was pregnant with John and that had been to resign from NASA and enter into the exclusive field of Aerospace Technology. He founded his own Company which would sell aero parts to the Air Force. Lucy encouraged him to take the risk, despite the insecurity involved for their family. She trusted Jeff's judgement and he listened to her and took the gamble.

It paid off.

He made his first million dollars before John took his first unsteady steps.

It all sounds too good to be true doesn't it?

It was for those two back then.

He was brilliant and gifted.

She was intelligent, articulate and intuitive.

They had three beautiful sons, were desperately in love and had the world at their feet.

The world can change.

Circumstances can change.

Life can change.

And life did change for them both.

Drastically.

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**NEXT CHAPTER – JEFF TRACY - THE BILLIONAIRE - PART 2 - THE TOUGH YEARS. **

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	3. Chapter 1 the Billionaire the Tough Ye...

Author's Note - Thanks to Yvette and Jade-Rose for their reviews on this story. Glad Grant was depicted the way all of us felt he was like!! . mcj  
  
CHAPTER 1 - THE BILLIONAIRE- PART 2 - THE TOUGH YEARS  
  
Hello, Josie here again. I'm back in my room after being downstairs for a bit with those grandsons of mine.   
  
They are worse liars than their Father about this party they've planned. It's pitiful.  
  
I might tell you that Scott couldn't lie to me if he was facing a firing squad.  
  
I've never seen so many shades of red as his face just now.   
  
I'd almost had a mind to tell the four of them to wake up to themselves and tell me the truth.  
  
I suppose it's not their fault. They are only doing what their Father wants them to do. Speaking of Jeff, it was him I was telling you about wasn't it? This part of his life is awful but I think you need to hear about it to understand what a wonderful, warm, caring Father he is and the ends he went to for his sons. He can't plan a party in secret but he is one hell of a Father.   
  
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Stage 4 - Losing Lucy  
  
Jeff and Lucy lived in Boston and had been there since Jeff resigned his commission in NASA. I got to visit my grandsons a bit as Jeff worried about me being alone in the farmhouse in Kansas. He was always treating me to air tickets to see them and in the holiday season, Scott, Virgil and little John came with Lucy to the farm. It was wonderful to see my grandsons enjoying the life their Father had experienced as a little boy even though they only got to do it for a short time.   
  
Jeff accompanied his family on the last visit and it was obvious by his mood that coming back here saddened him a lot. I think the true impact of losing his Father was finally taking a hold of him. Grant had left the farm to Jeff in his will, despite accepting that Jeff would most likely sell it at first opportunity. The farm wasn't worth a great deal of money but surprisingly enough Jeff didn't rush off and sell it as Grant had feared he would. He decided to talk to me about his plans for the farm first.  
  
Lucy was putting the boys to bed when he came and sat next to me on the verandah. It was very similar night to the one where I'd asked him whether he was happy with his life. Now he was asking me the same question.  
  
"Mother. Are you happy here?" he asked me, taking my hand.  
  
I looked up at the moon and remembered with awe that the young man sitting next to me started his life in this humble farmhouse and still managed to rise to the heights of walking up there. That moon shone over the fields where Grant and I had walked, where Grant and I had loved (you never knew that did you? I told you he made me a happy woman!) and where Grant and the son who sat next to me worked side by side. I know I told you earlier that I didn't like the farm that much but when I really thought about it, life had been pretty good to me here.  
  
"I miss your Father but yes Jeff I am happy here."  
  
"Well if ever you're not, I'm happy to buy you a house in Boston to be near us."  
  
I frowned at him. Buy me a house in Boston! I think he was making too much money if he was thinking about doing that.  
  
"Pray tell me why I'd move to Boston Jeff? I don't have to live next door to you to be happy. You and Lucy have your own life now. Besides I like it here. It makes me feel that I am still with your Father."  
  
"I understand Mother. However, I want to put the farm to use. Provided that's OK with you of course."   
  
He told me he intended to employ a struggling young couple to manage the farm for him. They lived a few miles away and had he had approached them about the possibility. He had come with Lucy on this visit specifically to make the arrangements.  
  
"You'd remember the girl Mother. Her name was Katie. She was a girl I dated a couple of times when Dad told me to find someone to marry."  
  
My eyes opened wide. That young Katherine was the one he'd lost his innocence to. For a minute there I had a terrible thought he intended to start up with her again under Lucy's nose.  
  
"You didn't tell me you dated her Jeff!" Lucy's voice berated him from behind.  
  
He reddened. "I was pretty young then Lucy. Besides..." he said sweeping her into a hug and planting a huge kiss on her lips. "I hadn't met you then had I?"  
  
"Don't change the subject Jeff Tracy", she teased, " I might have to rethink these plans of yours now I know that. I can't let your old girlfriend take you off me!"   
  
"Now I think about it, she was pretty good." he mused after a few moments, and received a lighthearted slap from her in reply.  
  
Humph. Jeff wasn't the only one who knew how good she was I might say and he didn't know I knew either.   
  
I let my breath out. I always thought the worst of Jeff. What a terrible mother I am. I watched him with Lucy again and heard Grant's words come back in my head. "You mark my words, he will end up with more than three children if he can't learn to control himself."  
  
Grant was right.  
  
With Katie and her husband Bill working the farm as caretakers I enjoyed my life, even though it was lonely sometimes. There was the church, card-games and county functions to attend as well as the monthly visits to Boston to see my grandchildren.  
  
During my next visit to Boston all hell had broken loose. Lucy had found out she was pregnant again and was not happy. She'd broken the news to Jeff only the day before I arrived and there was a tenseness in the house I'd never experienced before.  
  
After I found out the news I talked to Jeff. Whilst he seemed a bit annoyed at another baby on the way, he was all right about it. Lucy certainly wasn't. She was still having trouble with John and this just topped it all off. They had both agreed that after John, their focus would be on building up his business not producing babies. She felt she had failed him.  
  
  
  
"You know Lucille." I said quietly. I always used her proper name when I had a point to make to her. "God has given you this little one for a reason."  
  
"Yes well that may be Mrs Tracy but try telling Jeff that."  
  
"I have already dear."   
  
She smiled at me. She was such a pretty little girl. I couldn't blame Jeff for making babies with her in the spare time he had.  
  
"Yes Mrs. Tracy I imagine you have. Thank you."  
  
"I do wish you'd call me Josie dear."   
  
If God had sent this fourth little baby for a reason, it must have been some reason and he was in a darned hurry to get him here. It was February 14 and I had just returned from visiting Grant at the cemetery on Valentine's Day when I received a call from Jeff. He sounded panic stricken.   
  
"Mom. I've just got a call about Lucy and the baby."  
  
I took a sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Where are you? What's happened?"  
  
"I'm in New York on my way to the airport. The hospital called me out of a meeting. She's had a fall and they said something about needing to deliver the baby. It's going to be a few hours before I get there. Mom, she's not due until April."   
  
I think Jeff wanted me to reassure him that a baby due in April would be all right in February. I couldn't do that. I didn't know myself. Don't gloat that I don't know everythng. I know I didn't know then but I know now.  
  
"You get yourself in the air and I'll telephone the hospital for you and see what's happening. She'll be all right sweetie. She's a trooper that little Lucy. "  
  
I telephoned the hospital but I wish I hadn't. The hospital confirmed yes - a Lucille Tracy was receiving theatre and no - the prognosis was not good for the baby but that wasn't official and yes - they had a Scott, Virgil and John Tracy being cared for by the staff. I was almost tempted to fly over to Boston myself but couldn't really afford to and I wouldn't have been of any use in this situation anyhow.  
  
Little Gordon was born that day weighing a tiny two pounds, a far cry from the size of his brothers and definitely more "premature" than Scott. Jeff got to the hospital after Lucy had come out of theatre. He had been by her side when she had woken up. The little fellow wasn't good and Jeff got a big reminder of what was important in his life as he watched Gordon struggle for life itself over the following weeks. However, our little Gordie was a Tracy son, and the Tracy sons were all survivors. Like his forebears he overcame all his first setbacks to come home to be with his three big brothers. He also brought with him a head full of red hair. Jeff didn't tell me his fourth son had red hair and took great delight in watching my shocked reaction when I laid eyes on him for the first time. It was two months after he was born that I got the shock about that. That Jeff! He deserves everything I give him in this story.  
  
Still the premature baby experience with Gordon nearly gave me a heart attack and it certainly gave Jeff and Lucy a big fright. Despite him being a mistake they were grateful to have him.  
  
Jeff's business was on the verge of making him more money than he could ever dream of. He regularly gave me the details of his current activities across the United States when he called every other day or so. Dispersed between information that Scott had hit a home run in baseball, or Virgil was learning the piano were bits and pieces of his ambitions. It was useless him telling me. It was Lucy he needed to tell and convince. She had the intuition. He had the head. I was just Josie, his mother.   
  
Quite suddenly I received a call from him asking if I would come to Boston and do him a favour. He was wanting to talk to Lucy alone about a big business plan he had and wanted to do so without the boys around. He wanted it to be a special evening for the two of them. Naturally I agreed, seizing every opportunity possible to see the children, particularly that little red-haired grandson of mine.  
  
Lucy looked very tired when I saw her but she had the boys all prepared for their night out with me. I offered to take the baby too but she shook her head. She was very close to this baby and I understood that. He was still only four months old.  
  
I set off in the car chatting away to Scott and Virgil when I realized I'd left my purse back at the house. Jeff had given me money for the evening's entertainment and it was shoved in the purse. I turned the car around and drove the ten miles back home.  
  
I told the boys to stay in the car and scurried up the path and onto the porch. I knocked on the door despite having a key and waited...and waited...and waited. Inside the house I could hear Gordon crying... and crying...and crying. Where were they? I got more than just a little alarmed and fished about for my key.   
  
I opened the door and looked towards the nursery where Gordon was screaming. As I went to go down the hall towards him, I stopped and looked on the floor in front of me. There was the dress Lucy had been wearing not half an hour before, and Jeff's shirt. Further up the hall were the rest of their clothes.  
  
Now it was my turn to feel like Grant had that night in the farmhouse. They'd nearly lost that poor little baby four months ago and here they were, back to their old habits again oblivious to the fact that he needed his bottle. I nearly barged in on them but by the sound of things it would really ruin an impending moment. Shaking my head I put that in my memory bank, picked up my purse from the sideboard and got the heck out of there. However not without picking up Jeff's underwear and putting it in my pocket.  
  
I wanted him to worry or at least wonder.  
  
As I drove I saw red. Business plans. Monkey business that's what. I'd come all the way from Kansas for this!  
  
When I returned home with the boys I asked how their night was. Lucy didn't think I saw the naughty look she gave Jeff and the wink he'd given her in return but I did.  
  
"It was good for both of us Mother." he grinned, wrapping Lucy into a hug. "We talked a lot about my ideas and we have decided to expand into Asia."  
  
Well that was something. They had at least stopped long enough to talk about the business. But looking into their bedroom as I passed by to check on Gordon, it was obvious they hadn't stopped for too long. There was an empty champagne bottle on the sideboard and some of those weird oils I'd heard about. That bed was an absolute mess, it looked like a tornado had hit it. I also noticed that both of their robes were discarded on the floor despite them "still" wearing the clothes I'd left them in four hours before.  
  
I smiled to myself looking at Jeff. I wondered what he was wearing under those loose canvas trousers of his.   
  
I sometimes feel a bit responsible for what happened as a result of that night. You can guess what I'm going to tell you now don't you? Lucy ended up pregnant again and this time it was not something that I could soothe or appease either of them about. They'd had a massive argument about it and when I visited them, the two of them were very much at loggerheads. She'd given him an ultimatum to pull out of Asia or she was leaving with the children. He couldn't pull out without losing everything.   
  
I couldn't help but feel that if I had walked in on them when I'd wanted to, he wouldn't have.. Well he wouldn't have got to the point where this could have happened, let's just leave it at that.   
  
Lucy won the battle but not the war, with Jeff agreeing to freeze his capital and stop expansion. Fortunately he stayed afloat only with his superhuman efforts with the United States business. Where it became unfortunate was that whilst they had millions of dollars, they couldn't touch any of it. Things began to hurt financially.  
  
As you can guess my plane tickets to Boston had to stop and I didn't get to see my grandchildren much any more. Worse still, I didn't get to see what was happening to Lucille right in front of Jeff's eyes.  
  
That little girl had become really ill and he was working far too hard to see it. I got to see her when I decided to drive over to Boston with a friend who also had family there. The drive took the two of us a few days and I arrived feeling very tired. Nevertheless I looked better than she did. I could have been stone motherless dead and looked better than Lucy did.  
  
I'd immediately closeted myself up with Jeff and demanded to know what was going on.   
  
He was ashamed to tell me. Yes, things were bad. Bad between them, bad with the business, bad with her health. Jeff admitted he had blamed Lucy for the pregnancy and in the heat of the moment had overstepped the mark with some of his comments. He told me he had apologized for the things he'd said to her but she continued to dwell on them and was blaming herself for the money problems the pregnancy had caused. She'd ignored her health problems, not really caring about the baby. Jeff told me she didn't even talk about the baby. She looked terrible six months into this difficult fifth pregnancy, pale, small and without spirit. It was not like little Lucy to be like this.  
  
I'd cornered her once I'd spoken to Jeff and although she made it clear she didn't want to discuss their problems, she didn't have a choice. My name is Josie and she carried my grandchild, wanted or not and she was darned well going to be in a fit state when the time came to bring the child into the world.  
  
I'd gone with her to her Doctor who immediately put her into hospital to rest. I then went into a whirlwind of activity to organize things for the new baby. I instructed Jeff to hire a housekeeper when it was time for me to leave Boston. He shook his head. He could not afford it.   
  
"Yes you can." I had flashed. "Even if it's one day each week, it'll be enough to help Lucy out. You mind yourself Jeff Tracy, your wife and family come first. Your Father might not be here to give you that advice but I still am."  
  
"Dad wasn't working 20 hours a day and about to lose two hundred million dollars mother."  
  
"No your Father never had that kind of money Jeff but he'd have given every cent he had for you and for me. You know I'm right. He was a good man your Father and he brought you up that way too. Don't change your values or who you are for money."  
  
"Mother you don't understand."  
  
"No I don't understand. But what I do understand is that you've lost track of how much you and Lucy mean to each other and what is important in your life. I didn't think the two of you would last this long but you have and despite of everythng that's ever been said you two are meant for each other. I can't understand you giving her up now."  
  
That got him on his high horse. He had worked long and hard at making Lucy's parents and the two of us admit that we were wrong about their marriage.   
  
I left Boston with a housekeeper coming in each Monday, Jeff working from home to care for his sons and little Lucy under special care to bring her back to her old self.  
  
I warned Jeff that I would be returning for the birth and expected he would make an effort and make sure he and Lucy had patched things up. Little did I know I was returning for the saddest day of Jeff's life.   
  
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Stage 5 - The Sole Father  
  
Lucille went into labor three days early and only ten hours after I had arrived in Boston. As with all the Tracy babies, the ones born naturally started themselves off in the morning and were born as the sun went down. Grant had said that was the farming instinct in them. Scott, Virgil and John had all followed this pattern. Gordon had been an exception being an emergency but things seemed to have reverted back to normal with this one.  
  
As the dusk fell over Boston, I waited by the telephone for news of the birth. By dark I was getting worried, as the clock ticked closer to midnight I was absolutely alarmed.  
  
Finally the telephone rang and I will never forget the devastation in Jeff's voice when he spoke to me.  
  
"Mom. There has been complications. I don't have time to explain. Can you get the boys up here to the hospital now? They're telling me that Lucy isn't going to make it."  
  
It was like being slapped across the face. Of course she was going to make it! What was he on about?   
  
I demanded answers. He burst into tears and couldn't give them to me.  
  
Obviously I had to do as he asked. I rushed about waking Scott, Virgil and John. I dressed the three of them in their coats and made them put on their slippers. I led them to the car and strapped them in. I returned to wake Gordon. I grabbed a few things and threw them into a bag as he woke up. He grizzled a bit and looked about for his bottle. I had a cold bottle in the refrigerator. I looked to heat it but decided against it. I carried it to the car with him and handed the bottle to Scott. The little eight year old nodded and held it for Gordon to drink as we backed out of the driveway.  
  
"Where are we going Grandma?" asked five year old Virgil who was now fully awake.  
  
"We're going to see your Mommy." I said trying not to cry. I was sure Jeff was wrong though. Lucy must be all right. How complicated can a birth be?  
  
"Why are we going to see Mommy in the middle of the night?" he continued.  
  
"Your Daddy thinks there is something wrong with Mommy."  
  
"What's wrong with Mommy?" asked Scott sounding worried. Being the eldest he was very protective of his mother.   
  
"Well," I swallowed. "Daddy thinks she might be going to heaven."   
  
"No. Mommy is just having a another baby." Scott said trying to work it all out in his head. "Only sick people go to heaven Grandma".  
  
"I know Scotty. We'll see when we get to the hospital hey?"  
  
"OK Grandma."  
  
Funny how you can draw inspiration from a little boy.  
  
We pulled into the car park and I quickly unstrapped the children. I carried Gordon, led John by the hand and ushered Scott and Virgil in front of me. I approached the front desk.  
  
"I'm here to see Lucille Tracy. She is in maternity please." I said directly and watched as the receptionist searched the records. It seemed to take her ages.  
  
"It appears Mrs. Tracy has been moved from maternity.' she finally said. "She is in intensive care now. Follow me please."  
  
We followed her through the corridors of the hospital and finally to a room at the end of the intensive care ward. I didn't like the look of this.  
  
I entered the room and reality never hit me harder in the face than that moment.  
  
In the bed was Lucille with tubes coming out of her everywhere. She was crying as if she would never stop. Jeff was sobbing but trying to pull himself together.  
  
An incubator looked me straight in the eye. In it was a tiny baby. My fifth grandson Alan. He had a monitor on him as well. He had bruises all over his little face and was on a respirator.   
  
I pushed Scott and Virgil in front of me. They looked about and started crying too. John looked at me and started crying.  
  
Gordon saw his mother and started screaming for her to hold him. I realised that our little premature baby had grown into quite a strong little fellow as I grappled to hold him.  
  
Lucille tried to talk to her sons one at a time but the whole time I saw her fading. Jeff had been right. This little girl of his wasn't going to make it.   
  
"Dear God what are you thinking about?" I thought as I stood hugging Gordon and watching this dreadful scene. "Don't do this to my son."  
  
I didn't know what had happened to bring all this about. All I knew was that the beautiful little English girl who had loved my Jeff so deeply these past eleven years was about to leave his life. I didn't want to lose her. She was everything to Jeff.  
  
"Josie." she sobbed using my name for the first time. "My babies..."  
  
"Sweetie. I'll take care of your babies." I assured her as I could see she was near the end. "Don't you cry now."   
  
Jeff insisted I take the children out of the room before she died. I did as he said but he had no idea how hard it was answering their questions.  
  
"Is Mommy OK Grandma?" Scott asked still crying. If his Daddy was crying he knew something was up.  
  
"Mommy looked really sick Grandma." Virgil said. "Is she all right?"  
  
"No your Mommy is going to heaven boys." I said, trying not to cry. " You and Daddy will have to look out for her up there in the night sky."  
  
"I want mommy" came a tiny little voice.   
  
It was little John crawling onto my lap next to Gordon. I held him there close to me until Jeff opened the door.   
  
His chest heaved as he told me Lucy had died. His head bowed with defeat as he sobbed in front of me. His little boys watched him cry and they cried too. We all cried that day. We didn't stop crying for years. Jeff still hasn't stopped crying even though he thinks I don't know.   
  
I thought I knew everything but for the life of me I don't know what sort of being God was if he'd seen fit to take this dear little child away from her five babies.   
  
I sat there with the children for a long time while Jeff talked to the Doctor about Lucy and what had gone wrong. I found out from listening that the baby had his cord around his neck and had nearly died in utero. They had done an emergency C section to get him out but things had gone wrong during the operation. She'd hemorrhaged and they couldn't save her. They'd nearly lost the baby too. The situation could have been worse the Doctor was saying . Lord knows how that could be right I thought.  
  
After the Doctor had gone and Lucy had been taken away to the morgue, Jeff said to me through his tears,  
  
"I wish Dad was here. I want to blame someone for this Mom and I know he'd stop me thinking that. He'd tell me I wasn't being a decent man for blaming others about what happened to me."  
  
"Jeff. Your Father always thought you were a decent man." I comforted.  
  
" I know the Doctor's did the best they could for Lucy. I watched them myself but surely someone is to blame for this. How could she just die like that Mom? I need her. I should have done more for her like you said."  
  
I knew he had done more than he could for her, despite what he was saying. I felt so sorry for him.  
  
Even though my four grandsons needed me to hold them close at that moment, I elected to hug my own little boy for a long time in that hospital corridor as he broke down completely. Jeff will always be my little boy, no matter what.  
  
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Stage 5 - The Breakdown   
  
As you can probably understand, everything in Jeff's life had just been turned upside down and I was left in the middle of it.   
  
There are things you remember about times of tragedy and things you choose to forget. I tried to forget most things about that time between when Lucy died and when we buried her up on the hillside in a pretty little cemetery just outside of Boston. You see I had to forget because it gave me too much pain to remember. There were things like ringing Lucy's Mother in England and telling her that her precious daughter had died, answering the questions and making the arrangements. All made me want to forget, so I am.  
  
The saddest part was Jeff coming to me the day after she had died and asking if he could sell the farm. He needed the money to pay for her funeral. He just didn't have the cash with the problems he had, and he wanted to at least give her a decent farewell after everything that she had been through for him.  
  
I disagreed.  
  
"You're good for it with all those millions tied up." I said. "I'll lend you the money."  
  
He disagreed. He knew it was time to sell. In the end I agreed and he sold his childhood home with all its memories, good and bad to Bill and Katie.   
  
He promised that he would buy me a house to live in once he got himself together and if he could, buy back the farm for me one day. I knew that it would be a long time before my son got himself back together.  
  
"I don't need a house." I said. "I promised Lucy I'd look after your little boys. I'm moving in with you."   
  
Other than selling the farm, the first memory I choose to have after Lucy's death is a vivid one after the funeral was done and everyone had gone. The funeral had been a fitting tribute to Lucy and there had been many people. But they were gone now.  
  
I remember taking John and Virgil's hands and leading them to the car. I didn't let myself cry even though I wanted to. I still had to be strong for Jeff. Jeff still stood beside Lucy's unfilled grave, holding Scott's hand. One of things I have to admit to you that I don't know is what the two of them said to each other out there but I know that whatever it was the bond continues to this day at that gravesite.   
  
When they finally came to the car I asked Jeff if he wanted me to drive and he accepted. I was glad about that. He wasn't in any fit state to be doing anything.   
  
We drove to the day care centre where he'd left Gordon and I waited whilst he went inside and collected him. It hadn't been a good day for little Gordon it seemed as Jeff carried him to the car screaming on the top of his lungs.  
  
I had prayed silently under my breath for him to be quiet just for this one day to give his Daddy a little bit of space. Even though God doesn't usually listen to me because of my wayward ways, he did that day. No sooner had the car started up than Gordon fell asleep, sniffing every now about having to be cared for by complete strangers when he was used to his beloved Mommy caring for him.   
  
Our next stop was the hospital. The staff there had been wonderful to Jeff. They had kept little Alan there until Jeff managed to arrange Lucy's funeral. Well that was done now and it was time to bring him home.  
  
I still remember pulling into the car park of that hospital where the proud new Fathers collected their wives and newborn babies and took them home to begin their new lives together. Jeff had done that four times before but it was not going to be like that this time.  
  
He sat in the passenger's seat when the car came to a standstill and lowered his head.  
  
"Do you want me to go in and get the baby?" I asked.  
  
"No Mom" he replied slowly trying not to cry. "I can do it. Just look after the others for a bit will you."   
  
I placed my hand on his.  
  
"Of course."  
  
He got out of the car looking much older than his thirty-five years in that black suit he wore. Black never suited Jeff but I supposed you didn't wear anything else to your wife's funeral. It took him a while to return. I guessed there were formalities to arrange with releasing Alan.  
  
The saddest sight I have ever seen in the whole of my life and I say this without hesitation is watching that poor young man walk towards the car carrying his baby son in one arm and his dead wife's suitcase in the other.   
  
That sight is etched indelibly in this old mind of mine and will never go away.   
  
He put the suitcase in the trunk and got back into the car, still holding Alan in his arms. Alan was asleep and Jeff looked down at the tiny little boy he had almost lost. I could see the helplessness on his face.   
  
"Mom he's so small. I can't do this." he admitted, starting to cry. " I need Lucy."  
  
Instinctively I said, "You'll be OK Jeff. I'm here."  
  
A little voice came from the back seat. "Don't cry Daddy. I'll help you."  
  
His eldest son made that promise to his Father that day and whilst I know a lot of things about Scott, the main thing I know is that he honoured that promise and still does to this day.  
  
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Well if this family ever needed a tower of strength to deal with this big dose of reality in their lives, it was now and because I'd promised Lucy, it was going to be me.  
  
Looking back, all I can say is I don't know how the Jeff and I coped back then. Two babies, one screaming and unsettled all the time, the other also unsettled but giving us the added stress of now being able to walk and to top off the daily dose of misery, bringing up three other very sad little boys who missed their mother.  
  
Alan's demands and incessant screaming really wore the two of us down. Neither of us got any sleep and if it wasn't for Scott giving Alan a bottle every now and then or keeping an eye on Gordon I think we both would have collapsed.   
  
I worried about Jeff a lot. Even though he kept how he was feeling inside pretty much to himself, I knew he was devastated. He couldn't bring himself to eat and was hitting the scotch just a little too much for my liking. I know I had felt the same when Grant died but at least I'd allowed myself the time to grieve after him.   
  
Jeff didn't have the time to grieve what with looking after the children and trying to keep his business afloat. His business judgement was severely affected by lack of sleep and his emotional state. As a result he lost a few important contracts he really couldn't afford to lose. He just couldn't get himself back together and was starting to question if he even wanted to without Lucy.   
  
It was plain even to me that if his United States Company went down that would be the end for us all.   
  
Even though I know everything, I still don't know what he was trying to prove to me or to himself in those early months after Lucy died. He tried to do everything himself from caring for his sons to running his business and he wasn't doing any of it successfully.  
  
I almost begged him to lean on me more but Jeff, even in grief, was just stubborn as his Father was. He refused.  
  
It caused him to break down.  
  
When the breakdown happened he fell down like a pack of cards.   
  
Jeff won't like me telling you about this. He looks back on it as a sign of weakness. He is a proud man just like my Grant was and as a result does not like admitting that quite frankly " he lost the plot" around that time. Well that's what the Tracy men are like. My grandsons are all the same. Pride is everything to them.  
  
I remember I was reading a book to John the night it happened.  
  
Jeff had been awake for nearly forty-eight hours straight preparing a new contract worth a lot of money.   
  
He'd lived on coffee and the odd scotch for days despite me demanding that he eat.   
  
Alan woke up as he usually did around 7.00pm and started to cry.   
  
I kissed John's head and told him I had to leave the story now and attend to his little brother. Johnny had nodded.  
  
I went to get up.   
  
Jeff, however, went into his bedroom where Alan slept to pick him up.   
  
Normally Jeff would change him and give him to me so I could find somewhere quiet to feed him. He was such a highly strung baby that there could be no stimulus at all when we fed him. If there was he'd scream for hours.   
  
Jeff didn't come out of the room.  
  
I took the bottle I'd heated for Alan into the room.  
  
The sight that was in front of my eyes was awful.  
  
Jeff was sitting on the floor with his three month old son crushed to his chest staring blankly at the wall with tears streaming down his face.   
  
His lips were trembling. His whole body shook. There was no life in his eyes.   
  
Alan was screaming at the force by which his father was holding him.  
  
"Oh my God." I remember whispering, crouching in front of Jeff and holding out my arms to take the baby. He didn't recognise me. He had gone over the edge.  
  
In the end I had to wrench Alan from his arms. The poor little baby was hysterical and for a few frightening moments I frantically checked that Jeff hadn't broken anything. I called for Scott. My nine year old grandson came down the hallway and into the room. He stopped and looked at his Father. His little face fell.  
  
"What's wrong with my Daddy?" he asked in horror looking from Jeff to me to Jeff.  
  
"Your Daddy needs special help." I said swallowing hard. "Scotty can you take your brother for Grandma and give him his bottle?"  
  
"Yes Grandma." he said obediantly. " Where should I take him?"  
  
Scott knew about Alan's feeds.  
  
"It doesn't matter sweetie. Just not in here hey. Hurry along now, he's hungry."   
  
"Yes Grandma. Come on Alan."   
  
Scott took his brother off me awkwardly and picked up the bottle. I had to keep remembering he was only nine years old. He turned back and looked at me, his Father's dark blue eyes pleading with mine.  
  
"Grandma. Please don't let anything happen to my Daddy."   
  
"Don't you worry little one. Hurry along now." I soothed.   
  
Poor little boy.  
  
However I thanked God for Scott. I say it to this very day. Nothing was going to happen to that Daddy of his while I was around and while Scott looked out for him.   
  
I picked up the telephone and called Jeff's Doctor.   
  
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CHAPTER 1 - THE BILLIONAIRE - PART 3 - THE GOLDEN YEARS  
  
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	4. Chapter 1 The Billionaire The Golden Y...

CHAPTER 1 - THE BILLIONAIRE- PART 3 - THE GOLDEN YEARS  
  
Hi it's Josie again. I've just finished peeling the vegetables for dinner and now I'm walking down on the beach. I just love my life here.  
  
I thought I'd have a bit of fun earlier with Kyrano by asking him what's doing tomorrow night. He can't look me in the face long enough to lie to me. To think I still have twenty-four hours of this charade to go.   
  
There'll be one of two outcomes before much longer .One, I'll tell you absolutely everything about this family or two, they will relent and admit the party is on. I might let them off if that happens.   
  
If not you'll know it all.   
  
Well since the last time we talked I guess you've been wondering just how that son of mine ever recovered from what went on in his life during those tough years.  
  
Well the Tracy family breed their young blood tough and they survive almost anything.  
  
Look at my grandsons. You won't get any tougher than those five, risking their lives out there for International Rescue day in and day out. They wouldn't do it if they didn't have the Tracy blood in them, that I'll say, and it was their Father who gave it to them.  
  
Jeff Tracy is the toughest man I know when it comes to survival.  
  
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Stage 6 - The Recovery  
  
I guess it is fair for someone like me to say that when you hit rock bottom it's quite reassuring. Why is that you ask? Well, the way I look at it is this; if you can't go down any further then you have to at least be on the way up again.  
  
That was what happened with Jeff after that dreadful night he broke down. I called his Doctor in and after seeing Jeff, he told me in no uncertain terms that my son had big problems.   
  
Well tell his mother something she didn't already know before she picked up the telephone!   
  
Heck, his wife had just died, he had five little boys to raise, his business was almost bankrupt and he had problems? I couldn't believe it took this man six years of medical school to work that out!  
  
However, I held my tongue long enough to ask the doctor what the options were.   
  
They were simple and to the point.  
  
Jeff needed to be hospitalised to rest as he was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. He was a danger to himself and his five little boys in his current state of health and mind. After the fright with Alan, I had to agree.   
  
The Doctor went on further to outline the major steps Jeff would have to take or be made to take to recover.  
  
First and most importantly, he needed grief counselling to learn to deal with his feelings about what had happened to Lucy. I knew he would reluctant to do that. Jeff kept his feelings close to his chest. The Doctor said it was imperative.  
  
While that was happening, the Doctor said he had to stop trying to care for the children on his own despite not wanting any one else to shoulder the burden.  
  
There was no doubt that he had to try and get some sleep and eat properly. Well I'd been trying to tell him if he let me help with the children more he would be able to do that.  
  
  
  
The Doctor was alarmed when told about his drinking. He instructed me that Jeff had to cut back or preferably stop all together. I decided that the easiest way would be to just not let it in the house. I reflected later, much to my dismay how hard that was going to be. Not for Jeff but for me.  
  
A Scotch in the evenings was the only way I'd been able to cope with Alan during the last few months. Cups of tea did not help my nerves by the time I had tolerated one of his screaming fits.  
  
I also knew that he had to get his business back on track. I think Lucy must have been messing with my head from where she was up there in heaven, as all of a sudden I started to have all sorts of thoughts about what he could do. It had to be Lucy telling me that he should take the risk with Asia again because what would I know? I had the thought and then just laughed at myself. However, once his health was improving I'd suggest it was time.  
  
Now I was fifty-five when all this happened and I was no spring chicken let me tell you. I had been left in the middle of this crisis and I asked myself how I was going to cope if Jeff wasn't able to.   
  
Well my name is Josie and I decided that my son was going to make it through this. I knew II had to take over everything here while he recovered.   
  
Now I can tell you it wasn't easy doing that.  
  
I knew the contract Jeff had been preparing before he broke down had been important to him. However as I told you before, I know nothing about business but I know Lucy was helping me out. I managed to find the contract and rang the contact number on it. I arranged for its' delivery. I hoped Jeff had put it together right. I didn't have a clue.  
  
I pulled Scott and Virgil together and asked them to help me a lot more with the little ones. Scott willingly took over bathing Gordon and reading to John. Virgil, even though he still had not reached his sixth birthday learned to set and clear the table and kept Alan amused during his long vigils of sleeplessness while I tended the laundry and the cooking. They both tended to John when he lay awake at night crying for Lucy. I feel sometimes that comforting John helped them deal with their own grief a little better as most times all three of them would end up in John's bed holding each other tight and crying together. Those three little boys became very close during that time and they are still close.  
  
I checked Scott's fourth grade homework as I fed Alan late in the evenings. Usually Scott sat on one side of me and Virgil on the other and we would talk about how things were going at school and how their Daddy was feeling and how good it was that he was getting better and would soon be home from the hospital.   
  
I certainly hoped that it would be soon. I was getting pretty run down myself with all of this.  
  
Jeff was allowed out of hospital after three weeks and came home feeling ashamed of how he had let his family down by breaking down as he had. I told him that notion was nonsense. At least it had made him wake up to himself.  
  
He looked a lot better now after having some uninterrupted sleep and some decent food.   
  
He had started grief counselling at the hospital and whilst he didn't talk about Lucy to any of us, he made an effort to deal with his grief the very first day he arrived home.  
  
I wondered what he was doing when he went to the trunk of the car that still had her case in it from nearly four months ago and took it out. I watched him from the hallway as he forced himself to unpack it.  
  
He took out each item of her clothing one at a time and looked at it. He held some to his face to smell her scent again. Others, like the dress she had been wearing when they left the house for the hospital, he held close to his chest as if never wanting to let it go. There was her hairbrush that still had strands of her chestnut hair trapped in it. He removed the hair and wound it around his fingers as he had often done with her curls. There were her personal items that a house full of boys would never need.   
  
That case was his last real connection with her. He put everything back exactly where she kept it and closed the case as if trying to close off that part of his life. He then allowed himself to cry. At least he was finally starting to let his grief out. I didn't interfere with this sad moment and elected to simply shut the door on him. He knew I had seen him but he seemed more comfortable about it now.  
  
After a while, he came out of the room carrying Alan. Alan was wide-awake and simply staring up at his Father, a welcome change from his usual hysteria.  
  
It turned out Jeff had woken him. As he reached into the refrigerator for Alan's bottle, he looked at me embarrassed.  
  
"Mom you saw me just now didn't you?"  
  
"Yes I saw you. "I said.  
  
I didn't have to say anything else and neither did he.  
  
"Thank you Mom." he said.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For getting me help."  
  
I put my arms out for the baby. He shook his head. I instantly became cross.  
  
"Now Jeff, if I'm going to get you better, you have to let me look after the children."   
  
He continued to shake his head.  
  
"I know that mother but let me give him this please. I need to hold my son after doing what I did just now."  
  
I nodded. Of course he did. He would need to hold that little baby close to his chest in order to comfort himself that Lucy had not died for nothing. For once Alan didn't cry before, during or after his feeding. Had Lucy intervened again? Well I reckon she did. It gave me the chance to talk to him about where this family had to head if it was going to survive.  
  
I sat opposite him and watched him hold Alan as I discussed his problems. He agreed to keep attending the counselling. He didn't think it helped but from what I had seen so far, I convinced him that it had.  
  
He knew he had to dispose of her belongings but he couldn't bring himself to do it... not yet anyway. He didn't want me to do it either so we made an agreement that on the day that Alan walked, we would do it together. He was happy with that.  
  
He agreed to let me tend to the children's needs on the understanding he could intervene when he wanted to. He was adamant and I reluctantly agreed but warned him I would step in if he overdid it. The two of us decided he would look out for the two babies up to ten o'clock each night. I would take over after that so that he could sleep. He agreed that I could go to bed straight after dinner while he and the eldest two boys attended to the clearing up. That usually gave me six hours sleep as well.   
  
I spoke to him about his diet and how his drinking had gotten out of control and he admitted that both had been bad even before Lucy died. It was his only way of coping with the money problems of the Company and his worries about her health.  
  
The two of us then had the final discussion that changed Jeff Tracy's life forever.  
  
ASIA  
  
"Jeff, you won that contract you put together that night you went down."  
  
"I know Mother. Thank you for putting it in for me."  
  
"How much is it worth?"  
  
"Four million dollars."  
  
"Can you get the money up front?"  
  
"Mom you're starting to sound like Lucy."  
  
"I think that I'm speaking for her."  
  
He gave me that look of his. It was the look that Grant had always given me. It meant; don't be ridiculous Josie. I think Jeff was thinking the same thing. He was so like his Father.   
  
"Yeah I could the get the money."  
  
"Is that enough to start the ball rolling again in Asia?"  
  
He sighed.   
  
"Mom I can't. Not with everything that has happened. Lucy didn't want me to expand any further. Not with the boys so small and I've got this little guy now too."  
  
He looked down at Alan and took his tiny hand.  
  
"Well I have no head for business so why am I telling you this? She must be influencing me. I'm just telling you what I'm feeling inside"  
  
He pondered for a while. Lucy had the intuition. She always had. Jeff knew I had none - well no business intuition anyway.   
  
Even he had to wonder if Lucy was speaking to him through me.  
  
"I don't know Mom, " he said unsure. "I've got all the plans drawn up in my Office I suppose. The markets are still there. I guess I could to do it. But it'll be all or nothing."  
  
"Well it's all then. You know I'll help you."  
  
"Mom I'd have to travel a bit. That was what Lucy didn't like last time."  
  
"Jeff. It's all or nothing. I'm telling you Lucy would want you to do it for your sons."  
  
He fell silent then. When he finally stood up to put Alan to bed, I could see his mind ticking over. He could do this. I had sown the seeds in his mind or should I say Lucy had from the dead? Now all I had to do was back him.  
  
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Stage 7 -The Billionaire  
  
Jeff did elect to expand although he waited another month until he had recovered a little more. By using the money from that simple contract I had forwarded for him when he broke down, he had enough floating capital to free up his investments in Asia.  
  
That young man worked tirelessly to build up the company overseas whilst still remaining within the limits of the lifestyle we had agreed upon. He traveled overseas to supervise construction in person and whilst his little boys missed him immensely, we had our lives a bit more in order now.  
  
I have to admit I was pretty tuckered out by all of this but if I had my time over again, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I loved my grandsons more than my own life and they seemed to be starting to accept the fact that their mommy wasn't coming home any more and began looking to me for advice as well as the mothering that they had lost because of her death.  
  
One morning nine-year old Scott awakened me. He had made me breakfast to eat in bed. His Daddy had been away in China at the time. I had had a terrible night with Gordon. He was getting his two-year-old teeth and had cried all night long. Naturally he'd woken Alan who always took every opportunity to be wide awake and naturally complain. As a result I was tired that morning but the sight of that little boy standing there with the tray in his hands chased away any fatigue I felt.  
  
  
  
The breakfast was basic; as everything was in our lives while Jeff fought to claw his way back into the business world, but it was beautiful from the toast to the lovingly prepared cup of tea. Scott was a perfectionist even back then.  
  
He told me that he had heard Gordon and Alan crying all night and thought he would make me feel better by making me breakfast. I kissed him and asked him to share the toast with me. He shook his head and sat down quietly next to the bed while I enjoyed it.  
  
"Grandma." he said putting the finished tray on the sideboard. "Can I hug you for a bit?"  
  
I held out my arms to my eldest grandson who asked for very little love of his own, while all the time he gave all that was in him to his brothers. He climbed onto the bed with me and pressed his head to my chest. My arms encircled him and I felt his clasp around my neck. I held him close.   
  
"Grandma." he said after a while. "I miss mommy so much."  
  
He had said very little about Lucy up to now and it was obvious he couldn't keep how he felt inside a secret any longer. Those words were coming from the bottom of a broken nine year old heart and it really made me sad.  
  
I kissed his mop of dark curls and gently rubbed his back.  
  
"I know sweetie." I said softly.   
  
"I wish Daddy was here."  
  
"I know but you understand that Daddy is very busy trying to make life better for you and your little brothers don't you?."  
  
"Yes Grandma but I still wish Daddy was here."  
  
"I know. I wish Daddy was here too."  
  
That God! I was still off side with him for taking Lucy away and moments like this served to remind me how angry I was. It took Gordon's accident for me to ask for his help again but the accident is another story.  
  
Anyway, that's enough about my relationship with God. I'm going to hell anyway to be with Grant so I don't owe God a thing. He certainly hadn't done the Tracy family any favors this past year.  
  
Once the company was in full swing, the stock values rose and Tracy Enterprises was back on the map. Jeff was on the way back up and he knew it. His brilliant business brain was functioning again. He threw all his energies into his endeavors.  
  
I stood quietly in the background raising his children when he wasn't around, and stepping back when he was to allow him to cope with the reality and the changing emotions of being a single Father. He was still raw where Lucy was concerned but he was so focused on his business that he only ever dwelled on it when he was left alone or when one of his sons would say or do something that reminded him of her.  
  
It worried me a lot that he didn't talk to the boys much about their mother. I felt he should be. Maybe he was trying to protect them from the pain he was feeling, but I felt that the moment where Scott had shared his feelings with me should have been between him and his Father.  
  
As Alan approached his first birthday it seemed the despair of the past twelve months was starting to fall behind us.  
  
We were going to make it.  
  
The dreaded day came when the youngest little Tracy son walked, three weeks after his first birthday.  
  
Jeff had promised Lucy he would watch Alan's first steps for her and had stayed home from his work commitments for quite a few days so as not to miss them. Jeff, my son, is a man of his word and keeping his final promise to Lucy was everything to him.  
  
He held out his arms to the little blonde toddler and watched with delight as he walked into them. He picked him up and held him close and I saw Jeff had tears in his eyes. Despite his enjoyment of a precious moment, I was sure he knew before I reminded him that it was time now.   
  
It was time for him to say his final goodbye to Lucy as we had agreed to do all those months ago. Her things needed to be sorted out so he could get on with his life properly.  
  
Now I'm not going to go into what happened that day as I've shed enough tears thinking about those times. Maybe I'll tell you about it some other time, perhaps when I tell you a bit about young Alan but I can tell you, helping pack up that little girl's life with my son and putting the cartons out for disposal was not an easy job.   
  
The years went on and the business grew larger. As my grandsons grew taller and I grew older, our life improved to the point where we were living more than comfortably. We were very wealthy.   
  
However, my five grandsons were still being raised the same as they were before. I would not allow pretentiousness in this house.  
  
Their Daddy was still away from them a lot but he made up for it when he was at home. He loved nothing more than to throw a ball for Alan and Gordon to hit in the back yard, to watch the night stars with Johnny through his telescope, watch Virgil paint and listen to him play the piano and teach Scott the mechanics of flying.  
  
He loved his five sons and so did I. I was proud of them all and especially my own talented and brave son.  
  
For a while I worried he was lonely and tried to talk him about remarrying. He pushed that idea away instantly. He had no plans to ever replace Lucy. She had been his one true love and had changed his life forever. In a way I was glad. They had loved each other so completely. As long as Jeff wasn't lonely and happy in his life I was satisfied.  
  
But he had outgrown Boston now, particularly the modest house he and Lucy had built together and it was time to move on. We moved to New York where Jeff had his Offices. This allowed him to be home more often as his elder boys were now well into their teens and needed his guidance.   
  
They were good boys but let me say Scott and Virgil Tracy certainly had developed an eye for the young ladies and kept bringing a different one home every day after school for me to meet. Scott was nearly seventeen and had grown into an extremely good looking young man. Virgil was only fourteen, but his chestnut hair and the beautiful smile that was Lucy's made him irresistible to his female classmates.  
  
I was worrying after them already. I still remembered the close call Jeff had had at sixteen behind the shed at the church function.   
  
It worried me then that with all his work commitments whether Jeff had spoken to the boys about... Well you know what I'm talking about.  
  
  
  
The house we purchased In New York was wonderful and very large. It cost Jeff a fortune but money no longer mattered to him. He was now a billionaire. In nine years he had gone from near nothing to having it all.  
  
I felt very satisfied that I had helped him get there in my own way.  
  
And then what do you think he does to repay me? On my sixty-fourth birthday he tells me he has something to tell me.  
  
That Jeff! He had an ulterior motive when he purchased that huge house and I was too caught up with my grandsons to realize it.  
  
He had decided it was time I retired from the kitchen and started to enjoy my life. He introduced me to his friend Kyrano, a quiet Asian man who had been a Chef at the Paris Hilton. He and his nine year daughter Tin-Tin were moving in with us it seemed.   
  
Jeff had asked Kyrano to come to America to take over the domestic duties from me and in return he would sponsor Tin-Tin's education.   
  
Well happy birthday Josie! No wonder I'm annoyed about this party thing. I was furious with Jeff. Who did he think he was? I wasn't ready for the scrap heap!   
  
I still swam most days of the week at the local pool and could play baseball with Gordon and Alan without disgracing myself too much. I didn't wear grandma clothes or sit in a rocking chair with my slippers on all day. Hell I could probably teach him a thing or too about stamina.  
  
I suppose you can imagine that I refused to give up my kitchen to Kyrano and the two of us really didn't get off to a good start. Nevertheless we ended up making an uneasy truce and established what our roles were going to be. I hate to admit when Jeff's right but it did give me time to get out a bit more.   
  
OK Jeff I do admit it. I did appreciate being able to do things for myself again.  
  
I also enjoyed having a little girl in the house. She was a sweetie and very shy. That youngest grandson of mine struck up a friendship with her quite early in the piece as they were the same age and as you know, that is still going on. Well more than that's going on I can tell you. But I'll tell you about all of that later.   
  
I had a feeling that Jeff had more plans in his head when all of a sudden he announced he had purchased an island in the South Pacific and was constructing a villa. We were going to spend all the boys' vacations there and he informed me that once Alan and Tin-Tin had finished High school we would be leaving New York and the island was to be our permanent home. He would travel to New York for business when he had to.  
  
I couldn't believe it. I was from Kansas and definitely no beach baby. Kyrano didn't even like water and Jeff wanted us to be all alone out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?  
  
I hoped he wasn't going eccentric on me after all these years of common sense.  
  
"Relax Mother." he had laughed. "There's good reason for what I am doing."  
  
Well he didn't elaborate and I didn't ask him. Wherever Jeff wanted to go I was happy to pack up my life and go with him.   
  
As I said, we have been through a lot together.  
  
Stage 8 - The Founder of International Rescue  
  
Well the little Tracy boys who were left to grow up without their Mother became the Tracy men, each of them with different looks and personality but all five of them were strong, tall and handsome. Lucille would have been proud of her boys and proud of how Jeff had brought them up.  
  
By the way and just for the record, Jeff assured me he had talked to each of the boys about his moral and social expectations of them. His morals and expectations were the same as those Grant had given him; however Jeff differed from Grant in that he wanted his sons to follow their own dreams.   
  
Scott joined the Air Force and like Jeff he proved himself to be a born leader, excelling at the academy. I still think a lot of Scott's leadership qualities came from looking after his little brothers in that sad time all those years ago.  
  
Virgil went to College in Denver and my little Johnny excelled at Harvard.  
  
Gordon enlisted in WASP and Alan reluctantly went to College in Colorado. Young Alan was still giving us trouble and it wasn't with screaming fits these days. He just had tantrums now and a frightful temper into the bargain. He was so like Grant!  
  
Now that the boys were away, Jeff began to put the plans he had kept so close to his chest into operation.  
  
A young Engineer named Albert Hackenbacker came to live with us. He was a brilliant young man, the same age as John but with a terrible shyness and a bad stutter. He was the one I told you about before. So brilliant he can't get anything out of his mouth. If only he'd slow down!  
  
Jeff and Albert (or Brains as Jeff called him) spent months in his study, poring over designs and testing aircraft. Kyrano and I had to just about drag them out of there to get them to eat.  
  
Kyrano missed Tin-Tin too. She had gone away to Oxford in England and was studying Engineering and advanced mathematical theories. Jeff had encouraged her to follow that path owing to her extreme intelligence. I had the feeling he had plans for that young woman in his business.  
  
With all of the children gone, Kyrano and I became very good friends. We needed to be. We never saw my son and Brains for more than an hour a day and there was no-one else to talk to out here in the middle of nowhere.  
  
Over the months that followed, there were masses of craft parts shipped in to the island from Tracy Enterprises. Jeff had excavators working until all hours of the night gouging out parts of the mountainside and stabilizing the earth underneath. His Engineering background and aerospace excellence in NASA and his flying expertise from the Air Force and his entrepreneurial skills stood him in good stead as he worked with Brains in what could only be termed as a frenzy over that three year period.  
  
Finally Jeff revealed to us his plans for the future.  
  
He had acquired billions of dollars in business and he wanted to give something back to the world that had given him so much. He showed me the Thunderbird craft he and Brains had worked on. He confided in me that his five sons had agreed to man the craft. Scott was leaving the Air Force to return home to be his Chief pilot, Virgil was prepared to pilot his major rescue craft, John had resigned from NASA to man the satellite, Gordon was more than happy to leave his boring desk job in WASP to be his aquanaut and his youngest son would pilot into space as his Father had done.  
  
Tin-Tin had agreed to be his Assistant Engineer off siding Albert. I hate calling him Brains. Imagine if you were a bit dull. What would you be called in this house? No Brains?  
  
Jeff Tracy, my son, would head this wonderful organization.   
  
International Rescue had been born and no prouder mother and grandmother could there be in the whole of this universe.  
  
This family had survived and now we would make a difference.  
  
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Author's Note – I hope you like how I have depicted Jeff's life. This is only my interpretation of things but I'd like to think that's how he became the father and leader that is depicted in the show. mcj   
  
***** NEXT CHAPTER – SCOTT – HIS FATHER'S APPRENTICE ****  
  
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	5. Chapter 2 SCOTT His Father's Apprentic...

Author's Note - This is my interpretation of things with Scott as seen by his Grandmother. It has a few sad bits in it. Please review if you like it. mcj  
  
CHAPTER 2 - SCOTT - HIS FATHER'S APPRENTICE  
  
He's lingering in the kitchen for a reason.  
  
He usually does when he wants a chat with me. Look at him standing around making small talk with Kyrano while all the time his eyes are fixed on me. He's got something to tell me all right.  
  
Maybe he wants to tell me about the party because he knows I'm about to spill the beans on him.   
  
When I finish up in here I might sit down in our usual place at the bench and chew over what's bothering him for a few minutes. He always comes to me when he's bothered about something to do with his Father or his brothers. He takes his role as eldest son very seriously and being his Grandmother can be worrying sometimes.  
  
But he knows I know a lot of things about him. Things his Father doesn't know and things he doesn't want his Father to find out about.  
  
Nope. He's worried I'm going to spill the beans.  
  
Sorry Scott. Don't look at me with those dark blue eyes of yours and expect me to keep quiet.  
  
Jeff tried that on the balcony earlier. It didn't work and you are so like your Father.  
  
You always have been like him and that makes me very proud.  
  
I know your Father is grooming you as his Apprentice.  
  
Jeff Tracy won't head International Rescue forever.  
  
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The Apple of his Parents Eye  
  
Scott Jefferson Tracy was the first-born child for my son Jeff and his young little English bride Lucy.  
  
I say bride here because Jeff and Lucy had only been married eight months when he arrived. Scott was supposedly born a month premature and of course Grant and I pretended to be fooled that the healthy, strong, nine pound little boy who was our first grandson was not already on the way before those two were married.  
  
Come on Jeff!   
  
Nevertheless Grant and I traveled to Houston as soon as we heard he was born to see him. He was a beautiful baby, the image of Jeff from what we could see with a head of dark hair and dark blue eyes.  
  
I remember walking into the hospital to see Jeff holding him as he sat in the chair next to Lucy's bed. Jeff had such a look of love and contentment in his eyes as he stared down at his little son and Scott, whilst he could not focus his eyes gazed blankly up at his Father. It was a beautiful moment in my life to see them like that.  
  
Life is wonderful in how it allows you to relive your own times. Looking at those two reminded me of Grant holding Jeff in his arms twenty-six years before. I thought at the time if little Scott was going to be anything like his Daddy, the Tracy family was blessed indeed.   
  
Both Jeff and Lucy doted on that little baby despite a few shocks to them both about what parenthood entailed. They were still in honeymoon mode and I think having a child so quickly jolted them into reality about what real married life was like. Jeff was trying to study at the time for his space mission and Lucy was ill-prepared to look after a baby even though she had turned twenty-four.   
  
However she soon got the hang of motherhood despite the night feedings and crying of my grandson. Both she and Jeff learned to cope. Jeff made me laugh by saying in all sincerity that premature babies were a lot of work. Yeah sure! When you actually had one later on Jeff you found that out!  
  
Scott grew into a toddler before Grant and I knew it. One minute he had been a tiny, wrinkled little scrap of a thing that did nothing but wail, the next minute he was walking and into everything with Lucy chasing after him before he broke something else. I was sorry I didn't get to experience much of his babyhood but Jeff had to be in Houston with his career and that was that.  
  
Grant loved dangling Scott on his knee and riding with him on the tractor and my little grandson loved his Grandpa. He followed him around the farm for hours when Jeff brought him to visit. Even though Grant and Jeff still had underlying differences over his career choice Scott seemed to hold them together as a common link. I would often hear Grant giving Jeff advice on raising Scott and Jeff nodding in agreement.  
  
Lucy adored her son and whilst he was quite a bold little fellow, Scott always returned to the security of her arms when he got out of his depth, which was often. They shared a special and close bond as only a mother and her first-born son can.  
  
However the bond that was closer still was the one he had with his Daddy.   
  
It was always Jeff's lap that he insisted sitting on in the evenings which was difficult with Jeff trying to study. It was always Jeff who was required to bath him or take him to the nearby park and only Daddy or Grandpa was allowed to roughhouse on the floor with him.   
  
When Jeff left on his second shuttle mission, life was hard for little Scott. He missed his Daddy, and at eighteen months he had been too young to understand where he had gone. Still mommy had been there but it wasn't the same.  
  
When Scott was joined by his new little brother, I saw the beginnings of his later personality.   
  
He was a very caring little boy much like Jeff had been but whilst he had no trouble sharing things the one thing he refused to share with Virgil was his Daddy.   
  
Jeff wasn't allowed to hold Virgil while Scott was in the room or he'd put on a tantrum bigger than any tornado ever seen in Kansas. Jeff and Lucy tried to ignore the tantrums but in the end it was easier for Lucy to let the baby cry if she was busy rather than ask Jeff to pick him up and upset three-year-old Scott.  
  
Once Virgil was a little more interesting to Scott, he relented a bit and allowed Jeff to do some things with his baby brother. However it just took Jeff to give Virgil one too many hugs or throw him up in the air once too often and he would start up again.   
  
Scott's view was Virgil had mommy and he had daddy. Scott wanted to be an astronaut like Daddy and ride in the big moon rocket that Daddy showed him on the newscast. Virgil could stay home with mommy and drink his bottle.  
  
Nothing pleased Scott more than when Lucy took him with us to Cape Kennedy to watch his Daddy go to the moon and Virgil got left behind with the babysitter.  
  
He watched the launching and counted down like Jeff had taught him.  
  
"5,4,3,2,1. Blast off!" he yelled on the top of his lungs much to our amusement as the rockets engines roared into life with Jeff at the helm.   
  
Then "Lift off!"   
  
Then "Come back soon Daddy!"  
  
Then "Grandpa I watched it for you."  
  
It had only been four weeks since Grant died.  
  
Then "Don't cry Grandma."  
  
Grant had loved Scott so much.  
  
Then "Don't cry mommy."  
  
Lucy was so afraid for Jeff. A moon mission was a much bigger risk for him to take with his life than the shuttle expeditions  
  
Scott watched the television every hour he was awake during that mission, which was most of the time. He could will himself to stay awake for nearly twenty-four hours even then. Lucy had to allow him to have his meals and sleep there in case he missed seeing daddy. Lucy didn't mind as she was glued to the newscast herself for an entirely different reason.  
  
Scott was excited. She was afraid.  
  
Scott saw his Daddy walk on the moon and I don't know if he ever remembers that day but I'll never forget watching him watch Jeff, his little eyes sparkling with that something special that lay deep within him.  
  
"I'm going to be like Daddy one day Grandma." he said excitedly.  
  
I nodded then as I nod now. Yes Scott Jefferson Tracy. You would be like your Daddy.   
  
Well Daddy came home and to Scott's horror told him he wasn't going to be an Astronaut any more. He was going to design aircraft and construct parts for more space launchings. This was not the least bit exciting to the little boy who had watched the big yellow rocket blast off into space. He wanted his Daddy to keep going up there until he was big enough to go too.   
  
Jeff assured him he would still fly planes and once his business was established he purchased his own plane. He often took Scott up in the sky with him and let him hold the controls.  
  
He had to.  
  
Mommy had brought home another little brother to share Daddy with and this little brother was no Virgil. He was hard work and Jeff was forced to help Lucy with him, tantrums or not.  
  
Inanely jealous of this baby, five year old Scott did some terrible things to his little brothers that he thinks no-one knew about even though I know deep down that he loved them.  
  
One dreadful thing he did was to little Virgil.  
  
I was baby-sitting the three of them one evening in Boston while Jeff and Lucy were at a dinner when Virgil who wasn't quite two yet, crawled up on to his parent's bed to take a nap. Little John had been asleep in the cot next to the bed.  
  
Scott had taken off Virgil's diaper while he slept and then woke John up. John's hysterical screams startled Virgil and he ...well Jeff and Lucy weren't too happy about sleeping on the couch that night.  
  
I originally thought I must have lost my touch with fastening diapers but when I saw the condition of it I knew a certain little five-year old had taken it off.  
  
No wonder he was so close to his Daddy. He didn't let his little brothers get anywhere near Jeff for very long.  
  
He started school a few months before his sixth birthday and showed the same extreme intelligence as Jeff. Jeff had already taught him to read and Lucy had taught him to write. He was a keen learner and a born leader in the playground.  
  
His leadership skills were never more evident than when his Mother had an accident seven months into her pregnancy with Gordon. He was seven years old at the time.  
  
Lucy fell very heavily in the shopping center car park and was badly hurt to the point that onlookers had called an ambulance. Scott stayed with his Mother and held on to the hands of two year old John and four year old Virgil while the paramedics attended to her. He told the paramedics his name was Scott Tracy and he lived at 550 Paramount Road and his house was about three blocks that way. His mommy's name was Lucy and Daddy's name was Jeff. He rattled off Daddy's mobile telephone number and said he was in New York on business. He said Mommy's baby was due in April near his birthday.   
  
The paramedics were astounded at the little boy who could convey information with such clarity and preciseness. Most seven-year-old boys would be crying and hysterical if their Mother was lying there hurt. Not this one. They knew they were treating Jeff Tracy's wife and by the look of it they had a premature baby to contend with.  
  
Lucy was rushed to hospital with Scott in charge of his little brothers in the back of the ambulance.  
  
When Jeff returned from New York in a mad panic he listened with great pride at how well his eldest son had conducted himself.  
  
"I'm proud of you Scott," he said. "And Mommy will be too when she wakes up."  
  
Now I know I've already told you about that night Jeff and Lucy made my fifth grandson and I had inadvertently gone back for my purse but what you don't know about is the conversation I had with young Scott after I'd fled the house.  
  
I returned to the car feeling more than a little miffed and he could sense it. He asked me what the matter was. I told him there was nothing wrong. All of a sudden he came out with it.  
  
"Was Daddy kissing mommy again without his clothes on Grandma?"  
  
I didn't know what to say. How was Jeff bringing up my Grandsons if they knew that?  
  
"No. I never saw Daddy doing that." I said. What else was I going to say to an eight year old?  
  
"And he kisses her in front of the television when he thinks we're not watching Grandma, " added Virgil who was nearly five but had a lot of knowledge for a little boy it seemed.  
  
"Daddy must love your mom a lot to spend that much time kissing her." I replied tightly. This was all too much for me but I was totally unprepared for the final comment.  
  
"Yeah Grandma he says that but he still likes kissing Mommy without his clothes on. He does that when we go to bed. "  
  
I held my breath and hoped they weren't going to ask me why. Scott may have been the apple of his parent's eye but he did them no favors that night. They didn't do themselves any favors in my eyes either.  
  
Maybe I should have told Jeff and Lucy they needed to shut some of the doors around the place! Jeff doesn't know I know Scott knows about that.  
  
I don't think Scott even remembers that he knows. Lord I hope he doesn't!  
  
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A Little Boy Lost  
  
That dreadful day came when Scott lost his mommy and whilst I've told you about that, there are few special little things that need to be said here.   
  
Scott cared for his Father so deeply and nothing showed that more than this conversation.  
  
As I prepared to leave the hospital that night to return home Scott refused to return with me. He stood near poor Jeff and looked up at him.  
  
"Daddy. I'll come home with you." he said slipping his hand into his Father's.  
  
"No. Run along with Grandma Scott," Jeff had whispered, trying not to cry. "I've got things I have to do for mommy now."  
  
"I'll help you do them. Please Daddy."  
  
Jeff had crouched down and their identical eyes had met.  
  
Scott couldn't be allowed to be with him when he rang Lucy's mother or when he rang the undertaker and started the funeral arrangements.   
  
"No Scott. I need you to look after your brothers for me especially Gordie OK?"  
  
"But who is looking after you Daddy?"  
  
Jeff had swallowed before hugging Scott tightly to his chest.  
  
"Just go with Grandma son."  
  
"Grandma can look after Gordie Daddy. I need to look after you."  
  
I had taken Scott's hand and said gently.  
  
"Daddy has things to do sweetie. I need you to help me at home."  
  
"Daddy you'll come home won't you?" he had pleaded.  
  
Jeff had nodded at him unable to speak in his grief.  
  
After Lucy died that became Scott's biggest fear. He was terrified God would take his precious Daddy too. He became very anxious whenever Jeff the house in those early days.  
  
Scott coped very well with the funeral, for a little one.  
  
Jeff allowed him to read a passage from the Bible at the service and listening to his steady little voice in the church when Jeff and I could hardly see from our tears was very comforting.  
  
He held his Father's hand as Lucy's coffin was lowered into the ground but despite his bravery at the service, he cried and cried as his beloved mommy left him behind to go to heaven. I wished I could have done more to make it better for him.  
  
He had a bit of trouble relating to Alan at the beginning as he was old enough to understand what had happened to his Mother but I needed him to help me and couldn't have him pretending he didn't have a baby brother. Fortunately, the more interaction he had with Alan, the more he grew to love him. After two weeks he was willing to give him his bottle. As you know that was Godsend with what we went through with our youngest family member.   
  
What I noticed the most about Scott in the first month after Lucy died was his complete change in role. Before Alan was born he was the tough older brother who climbed trees and did suicidal dives to impress Virgil and John. Now he was the caring big brother they could turn to, the one who made sure Virgil had a drink for dinner, picked up John's toys when he forgot, messed about with Gordon in a cardboard box and came when I called him to help with Alan.  
  
And what did we do to show our appreciation of him?  
  
We were so caught up in our grief and dire financial situation that both Jeff and myself forgot his ninth birthday.  
  
Birthdays in the Tracy household had always been wonderful and special events. Lucy always had a party for her boys and even when she had been ill in hospital on Gordon's birthday in February, Jeff had taken over the job of hanging up balloons and organizing games to play.  
  
We hadn't had a birthday since Lucy died four weeks before.  
  
I had been absolutely exhausted that night and had gone to bed early.   
  
I don't know why I woke up but something willed me to go downstairs.   
  
I heard the piano playing.  
  
I thought I must have been losing my marbles from the stress.  
  
It was one o'clock in the morning.  
  
I had to be hearing things.  
  
There was only one light on in the Hall, the one we left on all night for the night feeds.  
  
I peered around the corner into the Lounge room to see if I was imagining things or not, when I recognized the tune.  
  
"Happy Birthday to You."  
  
Then I heard Virgil's sweet little voice singing Happy Birthday to his big brother, who sat next to him crying. When he finished the tune he embraced Scott in the darkness and whispered.  
  
"Don't cry Scotty. Daddy will remember next year."  
  
My hand flew to my mouth and tears spilled from my eyes. Oh no. How could we have forgotten something like that?   
  
I didn't know what to do. Go in there and gather him up in my arms and apologize or wake his Father who really didn't need any more pain right now and tell him he had forgotten the son who loved him with all of his heart.  
  
I scurried upstairs to Jeff's room. Loathe as I was to do it I tapped frantically on the door before walking in and turning on the night light. I knew this would wake the baby and I wasn't looking forward to the screaming but this was more important.  
  
In the chaos that was now my son's room, I saw him screw up his face at the light. His eyes opened and I saw they were still swollen and red from crying. Obviously he had been crying after Lucy again and had not long gone to sleep.  
  
"Mom. What's wrong? I've just got Alan to sleep."  
  
We looked over at the cot in the corner of the room. The tiny bundle in it was stirring.  
  
"Shh Jeff. Everything's wrong." I whispered desperately praying the baby would not wake up. "You have to go downstairs now. Scott and Virgil are awake."  
  
He sighed. "Mom. I'm exhausted. I've got to get some sleep. Can't you see to them?"  
  
"Sweetie. It was Scott's birthday today and we forgot." I told him and watched the horror fill his face. "You just have to get up. He's down there crying."  
  
"Oh no." he breathed, tears in his eyes again. "Mom, what sort of Father am I?"  
  
  
  
He quickly got out of bed and pulled on his t-shirt. He paused in the doorway as the little bundle in the cot started to whimper.  
  
"Mom?" he pleaded desperately.  
  
"See to your eldest son." I said as I walked to the cot and picked up Alan. "Send Virgil upstairs and I'll put him back into bed."  
  
Fortunately a little bit of Grandma's singing and a some rocking was enough to stop Alan fussing and I was able to put him back into his cot in a few minutes without too much trouble.  
  
I crept down the stairs and stood in the now darkened hallway in case Jeff needed me to apologize to Scott too.   
  
I could see Jeff sitting on the couch with his back to me with his arms around his little nine-year old. From what I could see Jeff was crying and Scott was the one doing all the comforting.  
  
"Daddy don't cry. It's all right."  
  
"Scott it's not all right for me to forget your birthday. I'm so sorry."  
  
"It doesn't matter Daddy."  
  
"It does matter. You should have had a party and we should have played games."  
  
"I don't feel like playing games any more Daddy. Not without Mommy."  
  
"I should at least have remembered your birthday. I don't even have anything to give you."  
  
"It doesn't matter Daddy. Virgie sang to me and played the piano."  
  
That made Jeff cry harder.  
  
"Your Mommy would never forgive me for doing this to you Scott."  
  
"Grandma says Mommy knows you are trying your best Daddy."   
  
Scott crawled onto his lap then and burst into tears too. He buried his head against Jeff's neck.  
  
"Daddy. Why did mommy have to die? I loved her."  
  
I turned away and went back upstairs. I couldn't watch that naked pain any more.  
  
I know a lot of things but this I know this more than anything.   
  
Jeff was close to all of his sons but the bond he had with Scott was the most precious of all.  
  
If Scott Jefferson Tracy's childhood ended with the death of his mother, the breakdown of his father two months later made sure of it.  
  
He was nine years old.  
  
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The Teenage Heartbreaker  
  
I hated four o'clock in the afternoon. Every school day at four o'clock the bus would pull up at down the road and out of it would step my grandsons. Towering head and shoulders above them all was sixteen year Scott, his dark curls lifting in the breeze, his blue eyes sparkling and his hand in that of a girl.   
  
You might ask what my problem was with that. Well, I didn't really have one other than it never seemed to be the same girl. It got me into more trouble than I care to mention.  
  
I'd say. "Hi sweetie." when he came through the door.  
  
He'd say." Hi Grandma. You remember Cindy or Sally, or Amy or Chrissy or Jenny or Libby or Kelly or...or ... or..."   
  
It confused the hell out of me why every girl he ever brought home had a name that finished with a "y". It was one of those unfortunate co-incidences that kept getting me in trouble.  
  
I'd say. "Of course. How is your Mother dear?"  
  
Today's young lady would say. "My Mother ran off with her boyfriend last week." when I was certain she had a bad case of the poison ivy.  
  
I'd say in a flap. " I'm sorry. How silly of me. I must have been thinking of Virgil's little friend."  
  
He'd say afterwards. "Aw Grandma. The mother of the girl with the poison ivy was at least four girls ago. Why can't you keep up?"  
  
I shook my head. I couldn't keep up with him. Jeff had never been this popular with girls. I guess attending class in a small school in Kansas was much different to attending class in a huge High School in Boston.  
  
Give me the younger boys any day. All Alan and Gordon wanted to do was play baseball. All Scott wanted to do was chase girls... and fly.  
  
Jeff had started giving him serious flying lessons and he had taken to them as a duck takes to water.  
  
"He's good mother," Jeff would say, nodding his head in respect of Scott's natural ability. "And he seems to want to do it."  
  
"Well he will." I smiled.  
  
He looked doubtful, still remembering how hard it had been to deal with Grant's expectations of him.  
  
"I just don't want him to do it because I did." he said looking worried.  
  
"Scott would tell you if he didn't." I said.   
  
He looked out at the Boston sunset as he sighed.  
  
"Even so, it was hard telling Dad I didn't want to be a Farmer. I don't want Scott to be afraid to tell me his ambitions if they're different to mine "  
  
Yes I remembered Grant and Jeff's argument all those years ago, but this was different. Jeff didn't know what Scott had said in the lounge room the day he watched him walk on the moon.  
  
"I'm going to be like Daddy one day."   
  
Still despite the flying lessons, Scott was a typical young man of his age. He enjoyed music and books and girls. Especially the girls.  
  
Well when a young man's mind turns to young ladies a communication breakdown seems to occur between his heart and his head. I knew that Jeff had talked seriously to Scott about women a two years before so he had the information in his head. He just forgot where it was that particular day and it didn't help that his dear old Grandma didn't know how to mind her own business.  
  
Scott doesn't know I know this and he would simply die if he did.   
  
As usual Scott was playing the field with all of the young ladies in his year.   
  
However I noticed that he had started to bring the same girl home a few times in a row. Her name was Adelaide. Why I remember her name so well after all these years is that at least it didn't finish with a "Y". Naturally Scott confused matters by calling her "Addy".   
  
She was an attractive little sixteen year old with blonde hair and flashing green eyes. I did think she dressed a bit provocatively for a young girl still in High School though and naturally that would not have gone un-noticed by that young man. Whilst she was pleasant enough I saw how she acted with Scott. I'd have to watch her.  
  
One afternoon after they had gone to "study" upstairs, Gordon came into the kitchen complaining.  
  
"Grandma. I can't get into the bathroom. Scott's been in there for nearly half an hour. I can't hold out much longer."  
  
I frowned. What was Scott doing that would take him half an hour in there?  
  
I shooed Gordon off to his Father's bathroom and stood in the kitchen debating whether to go and see if he was all right in there. After all where was Adelaide at the moment?  
  
Well, the easiest way to find out anything to do with my Grandsons in those days was through their stomachs. They ate us out of house and home those boys.  
  
I poured two glasses of orange juice and put the glasses on a tray together with some freshly baked chocolate cake. I proceeded to go upstairs.  
  
I passed Gordon coming downstairs from the second bathroom. He rolled his eyes as only an eight year old can.  
  
"He's still in there Grandma and she's in there too. "  
  
I nearly dropped the tray. The bathroom door had a lock on it whereas none of the bedrooms did. I didn't want my Grandson behind a locked door with a girl when he was only sixteen years old!.  
  
I went into Scott's room and sure enough they were both missing.  
  
My mind raced. Where were all the other children? Normally the Tracy household was a place that you couldn't do anything without having an audience. Unfortunately today, Virgil was at football practice, Johnny was at a friend's house and from where I was in Scott's room I could see Alan and Gordon putting together a model plane under the trees in the garden. Scott would know that too. Young rascal. He had probably added... and my Dad's at the Office... and my Grandma is downstairs getting dinner ready.  
  
My natural instinct was to call out on the top of my lungs.   
  
"Scott, Adelaide I've left a snack for you while you study."  
  
However I think I must have been getting worse in my old age. Instead of that I decided to put the tray on the sideboard in Scott's room, creep into Alan's room, which was next to the bathroom...and you guessed it … listen to what was happening.  
  
Can you visualize a sixty two year old woman eavesdropping on her eldest grandson at the door? Have you no shame Josie? I remember thinking that at the time. Well where Scott was concerned I had none but Scott was to have more shame than I was that afternoon.   
  
Now remember Scott, you deserve this. You could have told me about the party in the kitchen before but you didn't so I'm telling everyone now.   
  
This is what I heard...   
  
"Are you sure no-one will come in?"  
  
"The door's locked."  
  
"Do you know how to use that?"  
  
"Sure I do."  
  
"Have you used one before?"  
  
"Uh yeah."  
  
"You don't look like you know."  
  
"I do."   
  
"Well come on then."  
  
"Hang on a bit. I can't get it on."  
  
"Scott. You've never done this before have you."  
  
"I have"  
  
"Well hurry up."  
  
Silence. My hand was on the doorknob ready to rattle it in the next ten seconds when I heard a whisper of embarrassment.  
  
"It doesn't matter. It's too late now any way."  
  
"Scott. That's disgusting."  
  
Now you are probably thinking that I should be ashamed of myself for not bursting through the door and saving my grandson from his first sexual encounter but I think the lesson he learnt from his embarrassment in front of that worldly little Adelaide slowed him down on that front for quite a while.   
  
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THE AIR FORCE  
  
Life turned a full circle in the Tracy family when Scott finished in College and enlisted in the Air Force as his Father had done before him.  
  
The little boy with the fire in his blue eyes who wanted to be like his Daddy had become the man with the burning desire to achieve more than his Father had done.   
  
  
  
He wanted to be respected for his abilities and not because of who he was.  
  
You see, he was the son of Top Gun Pilot Jeff Tracy who was plucked from his job by NASA for bigger and better things and everyone knew it.   
  
Most of all Scott knew it and he hated being compared to his Father.   
  
He copped a caning from the other recruits when his natural ability in the air was rewarded with rapid promotion as Jeff's had been twenty-five years before. Scott worried the promotion came as a result of his Father's achievements. Scott knew that Jeff was personally interested in his career in the military and had a lot of buddies who were high ranking in the service.  
  
Every now and then he came close to accusing his Father of influencing his Commander who had originally been under Jeff's command. Scott felt many commendations he received were as a result of connections and not his own abilities. Of course that was nonsense. His Father would never intervene.   
  
Scott doesn't know we know about the time he had to bail out of the five million dollar air force jet before it crash landed into the Atlantic Sea. It happened only three days before he was to be looked at by the Top Gun commander for a certain place in the squadron.  
  
Now as I've said before. Pride is everything to the men in the Tracy family. Scott was badly shaken and lucky to escape with his life. Fortunately he got away with only a bruising to his ego, a black eye and a large dressing down from the Commander as a result of it.   
  
The military made no statement about the incident and Jeff only found out through his connections. As a result, he was uncertain as to whether he should discuss the incident with his son, especially as Scott had lost his opportunity in Top Gun because of it.  
  
I thought he would have at least confided in his Father what had happened but there was no chance that Scott would ever admit to a failure. Even now in International Rescue he hates to fail.  
  
I spoke to Scott most days when he rang to ask after his father or younger brothers. He was very close to them all and even though he was miles away from them building a life of his own it still worried him whether Virgil & John were paying attention in their classes in College and who was checking Gordon and Alan's homework in Junior High.  
  
One day I heard myself ask Scott the question that had changed his Father's life.   
  
"Scott. Are you happy sweetie?"  
  
He sounded surprised on the other end of the line.  
  
"How's that Grandma?"  
  
"I asked you if you are happy."  
  
He became guarded.  
  
"I love the Air Force Grandma but I'm not as good as Dad was in the air and that sticks into me a bit."  
  
I thought he might come clean about the accident at that point but he didn't mention it.  
  
"I'm asking you about more than just your career Scott. You've been looking out for those brothers of yours for years. It's time you tried to find a little girl of your own and thought about raising your own sons."  
  
I had to say that. Grant wasn't here to do it and Jeff certainly wouldn't say anything to push Scott into anything he didn't want to do.  
  
Initially he joked with me about giving enough bottles to screaming babies in his life-time already but then he said quietly.  
  
"I'll only tell you because I know I can trust you. I'm taking things slowly and don't want Dad or the guys to know yet, but Grandma I am seeing someone. I've been seeing her for a while. It's pretty serious."  
  
A very cautious statement compared to his Father's "Mom she's the one", when he fell head over heels in love with Lucy the first time he saw her.  
  
But that was my grandson Scott.   
  
Careful. Calculating. Thorough.   
  
He had grown into a fine man and I hoped that whoever this young lady was that we would soon get to meet her and they would be very happy in their lives together. I began to think about what my great grandchildren might be like in this circle of life.  
  
Scott never got that far in his one true serious relationship.  
  
He got the call from his Father that changed his life.  
  
He wanted him to sign up for International Rescue.   
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
Resigning from the Air Force to become Chief Pilot and second in command of International Rescue did not present a problem to Scott. In a lot of ways his seven years in the Air Force had been a disappointment to him, particularly the failure to make it into Top Gun.   
  
The problem that surfaced was the fact that in returning to Tracy Island he had to leave behind the woman he had been with for nearly four years.  
  
Jeff was adamant that no outsiders were to be admitted to International Rescue for security purposes. It was to be a family business and that was that.  
  
Scott asked her to marry him. If she accepted she'd be family then.  
  
She said no and admitted she wanted more in her life than just being the wife of a man who lived a secret life in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, irrespective of the role he was unable to tell her about.  
  
I did not understand why and he was devastated.  
  
I became angry.  
  
What more could any girl want but the heart of my wonderful, gentle, generous Grandson? He was a young man with fire in his eyes and a value of his family.  
  
He had already lost one woman he had loved unconditionally when he was a little boy. Now, twenty years on as a man, he was losing another.  
  
Broken hearted and without a word to anyone except me, he returned to Tracy Island to begin work for his Father.   
  
He would have been the most wonderful husband and such a special Daddy if she had only given him the chance.   
  
Now his role would be to save lives. So far he has carried out that role magnificently.  
  
However when he and his brothers sit on the balcony in the evenings in the darkness he sometimes lets his guard down when he thinks no one is watching him.  
  
But Scott your Grandma is watching you.  
  
I recognize the hurt and yearning I see in your dark blue eyes when they glisten with tears as you think about her, what might have been and what you gave up for your Father's dream.   
  
I love you my darling.  
  
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NEXT CHAPTER - VIRGIL - LUCY'S ARTIST  
  
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	6. CHAPTER 3 VIRGIL LUCY'S ARTIST

Author's Note - This Chapter has been especially written for my friend Yvette in appreciation for her encouragement of my work and in recognition of her favourite Tracy son. 

CHAPTER THREE - VIRGIL - LUCY'S ARTIST

Well the meals are over and the kitchen's tidy so that's me done for the day. What a shame it is my last day as a young woman. I'll be seventy-five tomorrow and in my rocking chair.

I bet that's what Jeff presents me with at this stupid party.

He'd better not, that's all I'll say!

It will be Jeff Tracy who'll need International Rescue if he does!

It's warm tonight and a bit too early to go to bed yet. Jeff's still working at his desk so I think I'll sit in here for a while and have a glass of port.

Grant and I used to love having a port after dinner. We would sit out on the porch of the farmhouse and look at moon together. Those days were a long time ago, long before Jeff walked up there. I was young and pretty and Grant was tall and handsome. He would hold my hand and often I wouldn't look up at the moon. I would just look at him. We were so very much in love in those days. Now Grant has gone but everything else is still the same I suppose. I'm still young and pretty and I still love Grant even though it is now only with my heart. Well maybe I'm not pretty anymore either. It depends on who's looking at me I suppose but I'm definitely still young until tomorrow.

I love sitting on this couch listening to him play the piano like that. His fingers move across the keys with so much love and emotion that I can almost feel the piece of music he is playing.

I haven't heard the melody he's playing now. It must be a new one that he's written.

He's such a handsome young man. His chestnut hair shines in the light; his brown eyes are large, dreamy and bottomless and as he looks over and smiles at me, I remember how pretty his mother used to be and how much like her he is in every fabric of his being.

The music has stopped now and his hands are resting lightly on the keys. He's talking to me in his soft, gentle voice, and his words make me sit up and prick up my ears. What did he just say?

"Finally coming in to party with me Grandma" he asks me before realising what he has said. He swallows and looks over at his Father who is sitting at his desk behind me. By the way he then looks down I gather his Father has just given him the well-known "Jeff Tracy glare of disapproval."

I recognise the familiar dropping of this young man's head.

He hates being admonished by the Father he loves so deeply.

Party?

Ah I see. Virgil you are trying to give me the clues aren't you?

I know what you're like.

You always try to help me out and I know that your Father won't hear of it.

I'd better try to help you out with your father glaring at you like that.

"No I'm simply enjoying your music sweetie." I say and mean it. "Is that a new piece"

He smiles at me again, his eyes crinkling at the corners and as he does I also see Lucy smile, her eyes crinkling too. I look behind me at Jeff who is looking straight at his son. I have no doubt Jeff is seeing Lucy smiling at him too by the sigh he gives before he returns to his work. I recognise that sigh. He does that whenever he looks at Virgil and remembers Lucy. Virgil recognises it too and tries to avert his face from his Father's. He knows what his Father is thinking.

He looks at me and runs his hand through his hair as he always does when some one talks to him about his music.

"Yes Grandma, it's one I've written for a special occasion. It's not quite right yet though."

I'm glad he was speaking at that point, as he does not hear his Father sigh again. I, on the other hand, do. Lucy used to run her hands through her hair too and just like that.

"Well it will be beautiful when it's done. What's the occasion"I ask.

He reddens and looks back over at his Father. I have to help him out again.

"No. Don't tell me. I'll wait until it's polished and when I hear it,. I'll know the occasion."

He understands that I understand perfectly.

He's written this to play for me on my birthday. I hope there are words to the melody and I suddenly look forward to hearing them at the "party".

What party?

Our charade continues for his Father. Virgil knows I know. His eyes tell me.

"It might take me a while Grandma. You know music is a work of art."

Virgil Tracy, it goes without saying you are your Mother's son; musically gifted, sensible and intuitive. You and I have a special secret don't we? It's bigger than the party secret.

I know you are Lucy's artist. I've seen you.

THE LONG AWAITED SECOND SON

Virgil Ivan Tracy came into the world nearly three years after his brother Scott, a very much longed for and wanted little boy, particularly for his Father Jeff.

As you know, Jeff had a point to prove to his own Father who only wanted him to bring one baby into the world. Jeff had "informed" Grant that he would be bringing three children into his little family in Houston and after that discussion had pestered Lucy every month to think about doing something about the second one.

Now little Lucy had a stubborn side to her that I haven't told you about but I'm telling you about it now. If that young lady didn't want to do something, she didn't.

Jeff and Lucy Tracy may have fallen desperately in love and married quickly but neither of them really knew each other's faults. He was the jealous type which she found out quickly if her eyes moved to anyone but him, whilst he was now finding out she was determined and stubborn when she felt strongly enough about something.

The last thing she wanted was another baby. She was enjoying life with her first little boy and still learning the ropes of motherhood properly. She also wanted to keep working part-time to take her mind off the fact that Jeff's moon mission was getting closer.

Deep down inside I think she was terrified something was going to happen to Jeff and she didn't want to find herself left with two babies to bring up on her own. It may have been common sense on her part but it came across to Jeff as stubbornness.

He couldn't believe she felt a second baby was out of the question. Her view was that they had years to have the other two babies she had promised him.

Jeff had been decidedly miffed about it but every month he hoped and prayed that Lucy would not have to take the usual three or four days off their love-life because she hadn't fallen pregnant again.

In the end it got the better of him and they had a row over it. They were at the farm at the time and those walls were thin, as you already know.

They were in bed next door. Grant was asleep as usual. I was awake and listening as usual. Jeff must have been up to his old tricks as usual. She must have given her usual response to his request for another baby.

"Lucy I'm starting to think you don't want to have my children"he accused her, despite knowing deep down she did but with no other way to express his growing frustration with her.

"You just want another baby right now to prove a point to your Father Jeff." she shot back, her tone indicating an uncustomary flash of temper. "My babies are not going to be used like pieces in a chess game between you and your Father. I'll have this second baby with you when I'm ready and I'm not ready yet."

That was that.

Having said that, when Lucy finally did decide to have the baby, it was because something in her had said it was time. Jeff still hadn't gone to the moon but she suddenly felt the need to create another life with him. She fell pregnant straight away and Jeff, despite his elation at the news, grumbled that she jolly well should have. He'd practiced long enough at it with her.

They both hoped it would be a daughter.

No such luck. The Tracy family had not bred a daughter for five generations and I didn't think that even this little girl from England brought enough Evans genes in her to counteract that trend. I couldn't and I came from a family of six daughters; not that Grant gave me much opportunity to try to have a girl.

Still a girl wasn't everything she told me as I visited my new little grandson in the same hospital where his brother had been born. The last baby would be a girl and after the labour she'd just been through, that third baby was going to be a long, long way off.

Jeff was off with Scott when we arrived, so I was able to have an immediate nurse of little Virgil.

Grant and I were still trying to comprehend his name and where the heck she'd got it. Virgil hardly sounded like a name a self-respecting parent would give to their baby and especially a Tracy baby. I sat there hoping Grant would keep his lip buttoned. Fortunately, Grant knew better than to cross Lucille and I was able to enjoy yet another precious moment in my life. Meeting little Virgil.

I was surprised at how very different he was to Scott. He was much smaller, with a different shaped face, brown eyes and tufts of chestnut hair on the top of his little head. I looked at his long delicate fingers. They were like Lucy's. He was an Evans through and through.

Jeff thought his new little son was even more special because he looked like Lucy. He could never deny Lucy anything and it was the same whenever Virgil smiled at him or held out his arms to be picked up. Jeff couldn't resist him. I think Jeff would have spoiled him to death if Scott's tantrums over his arrival hadn't got in his way.

Virgil was an easy-going baby, more than likely because they had already done the hard yards with Scott. He was very attached to Lucy, more than Scott had been and nothing made our little Virgil happier than for his mother or his Grandma to cuddle him, give him a warm bottle and sing him a lullaby at the end of the day.

Lucy could sing beautifully I discovered. No matter how much he was fussing, if she sang to him, he stopped to listen and the most beautiful smile would break out on those distinctive Evans features. She had to sing to him often because Scott wouldn't let Jeff do anything to stop him crying some days. Soon he started singing in his baby babble and could amuse himself for quite a while with the noises he made.

"You know Mrs Tracy" she said in her pretty little accent as we walked together near the farmhouse several days after Grant had passed away. "I think Virgil is going to be very talented but in a different way to Scott."

I nodded.

Well one thing was for sure. Her two sons were certainly different. One was a Tracy to the core; the other was an Evans with the Tracy heart beating underneath. The Tracy son had the fire in his eyes; the Evans son had deep and dreamy eyes that showed an artistic soul. However they had one thing in common. Their Father was Jeff Tracy and he loved them both.

As we walked that day talking about Grant and Jeff, I listened to Virgil babbling away in his little musical tone whilst watching Jeff's eldest son run in front of his mother pretending he could fly.

Grant may have been gone but the Tracy name lived on in these two little boys.

TALENTS SURFACE

Virgil became a middle son after his Daddy returned from the moon. At eighteen months old he had blossomed into a sturdy little toddler, still much smaller than Scott had been but with a beautiful easy-going nature. Unlike his brother, he made very little fuss when the baby came home. As long as Lucy gave him a cuddle when he wanted it he was happy.

Virgil had developed a new passion at that ripe young age; sitting on his mommy's lap and pressing the keys of her piano. He would press one key and look up at her waiting for her approval. Lucy of course gave it and once that had happened, it became more than a passion for him. It became a ritual, and like Scott, if he wasn't allowed to do what he wanted...

Never let it be said Virgil is an Evans. He has his Father's temper under that sensitive exterior and that quickly became apparent with the piano.

It was quite hilarious actually watching the two eldest boys with their favourite parents once John had been put down after his feed in the evenings. It was like a Mexican standoff to put it bluntly as one brother dared the other to step into their territory.

Scott would sit on Jeff's lap in front of the television set.

Virgil would sit on Lucy's lap and always in front of the piano.

Scott circled a toy plane around his Father's head in imaginary flight while Jeff tried to read his Engineering book. Jeff tried so hard not to look annoyed.

Virgil would crash the keys of the piano with his fists while Lucy was trying to play. She tried so hard not to look annoyed too.

Scott would eye Virgil. Lucy would eye Scott. Jeff would eye Virgil. Jeff would eye Lucy. The piano stopped. The television was turned off. The book was put down. The toy plane was put out of reach.

Two little boys were sent to bed by the opposite parents. Jeff tucked Virgil in telling him how rude he was to mommy. Scott lingered after his hug from Lucy as she scolded him for being rude to Daddy. Two little boys nodded in understanding... and then did it all again the next evening!

I was so glad Jeff had decided to have more than one child.

Those were happy days back then.

Virgil's last talent came apparent when he was four years old. Lucy warned me when she collected me at the airport that Virgil had developed a terrible habit of staring at people. It had become quite embarrassing and she was trying to get him out of it.

Sure enough within ten minutes of being in the house for this visit there he was.

A beautiful child with beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile...and a stare that made me right nervous I might say.

"Virgie" Lucy said exasperated. "Please stop staring at Grandma."

He did as she said and in turn fixed his gaze on her.

"Virgil" she said sternly.

She turned to me.

"See"

I thought he was cute and the stare seemed to show the window into that little boy's soul somehow. I told Lucy it would right itself. After all he wasn't hurting anybody was he?

Suddenly he said in his sweet little voice.

"Mommy. You are really pretty."

Lucy rolled her eyes as she ran her hands through her chestnut curls. She didn't know what to make of him at the moment and worried Scott must have hit him on the head with something when she wasn't looking.

"Well thank you Virgil. I'm glad you think that but you just can't keep staring at people like you are. It's rude darling."

"I only want to 'member them mommy."

Virgil could never say the word "remember". It drove me to distraction.

She shooed him away and went out with me into the garden to find Jeff. The garden was the only place Jeff got any peace to read his books these days.

We sat talking for nearly an hour under the trees before Virgil came out with a piece of paper in his hands. He showed it to his Father.

"Daddy. I drew a picture for you. Do you know who it is"

Jeff closed his book as he always did when one of his sons wanted his attention. His children's art always made him nervous. He never got the subject right and hating being wrong.

He didn't need to turn the paper this way and that to try to interpret this drawing. It was obvious who it was. He looked over at the two of us with a surprised look on his face. He looked at Virgil.

"It's mommy."

When Virgil did not reply he looked at him anxiously and asked"Isn't it"

He didn't want to hurt Virgil's feelings.

"Of course it is Daddy. I 'membered what she looked like after watching her in the kitchen."

Jeff turned the paper around for us to see. My hand flew to my mouth and I said,

"Oh my."

For four years old this little boy had talent and lots of it.

Lucy looked at him.

"Virgie. Did Scott help you with this"

He looked hurt. How could she think he didn't do it?

"No mommy. Scotty's riding his bike. I did it myself. Don't you like it"

She knelt down on the grass and gathered him into her arms.

"No Virgie I love it. It's just that you are very good darling. You can paint my picture any time."

Those words had more impact on Virgil Ivan Tracy than any other words she ever spoke to him.

It helped him to deal with her death.

A BEWILDERED LITTLE BOY

As you know, Virgil was a totally different little boy to his brother Scott. However he admired Scott and now that Scott was eight and he was five, their personalities seemed to complement each other. Virgil loved Scott's daredevil antics and often joined in with him. Scott, on the other hand admired Virgil's musical talent and would sit quietly listening to him trying to play the piano under Lucy's instruction.

Scott asked his Father how Virgil had learnt to paint so well to which Jeff replied.

"Well it wasn't from the Tracy side of the family let me tell you."

To this day I wish Scott had been given the same talent. It might have given him an outlet for his feelings as it gives Virgil.

Scott held his feelings deep inside of him. Virgil didn't. Virgil had been born with only a little of the Tracy iron control in him and sometimes I think that was a blessing.

I hate have to tell you how these little boys reacted and coped when their mother died but that time is important for you to know about. In some of my Grandsons it shaped their character. I'm lucky I've only got Virgil and John to tell you about now. The other two were too young to grieve at all.

This little boy grieved dreadfully. He hadn't just lost his mother. He had lost his favourite parent and the teacher of everything that gave him joy. Mommy had painted with him, sang songs with him and taught him the piano. He had nothing left.

He cried at the hospital when he kissed her for the last time. He cried in his bed alone when I took him home. He cried constantly until the funeral was done and we brought his youngest brother home from the hospital.

Then silence.

It worried me immensely that Virgil was the only Tracy child that Jeff did not hold close to his chest and comfort after Lucy died. He held Scott, John and little Gordon for hours but he deliberately avoided Virgil. I knew he was hurting about Lucy and it was tough but he was hurting my grandson more. The pain in those little brown eyes as he watched his Father hold his brothers was almost too much for me to bear.

About a week after the funeral I got out of bed to attend to Gordon and I found Virgil sitting in his pyjamas in front of the piano in the dark, his little hands folded in his lap and tears streaming down his face. He wasn't making a sound.

He turned to look at me with his lips trembling.

I came to sit next to him.

"What's this playing the piano at all hours of the night then" I began light-heartedly pretending to be cross.

He looked at me, this beautiful exquisite five-year old who had loved his mother more than his life.

"I wasn't playing Grandma. Daddy told me not to play anymore 'member"

Tears pricked my eyes. Yes I did remember. Jeff had admonished him severely that evening for trying to play a little tune Lucy had taught him the day she went into hospital to have Alan. Jeff had recognised it and put a stop to his piano playing immediately just as he had put a stop to everything that reminded him of Lucy. I had thought at the time; Jeff, he's lost his mommy and he's all cried out. Let him get his grief out somehow. I went to say that but held my tongue.

I put my arms around him and let him cry but it wasn't my arms he wanted. He wanted his daddy's.

"Grandma." he said after his tears subsided. "Why doesn't Daddy love me anymore"

Those words tore at my very heartstrings. I tried to reassure him.

"Sweetie. Daddy does love you. Don't cry now. "

He shook his little head and I knew why he felt like he did. I would think my Daddy didn't love me either the way Jeff was carrying on.

I tucked Virgil up next to me in bed and held him close until he fell asleep. As I lay there with this little boy I knew one thing. Jeff couldn't be allowed to keep doing this to his son, intentionally or not.

I fixed that up quick smart. Remember my name is Josie and no-one gets in my way when one of my grandsons is upset.

I tore into Jeff like a hurricane and I didn't care how much pain he was feeling; his little Virgil was feeling more.

"Mom I can't look at him. I just can't." Jeff admitted with shame. "How can I deal with this when she's looking right back at me through him? It's like God is mocking me or something. I know it's wrong to avoid him but I can't help myself."

"You listen here to me Jeff Tracy. God gave you Virgil because he was going to take Lucy away from you. He made him like her so that you could still damned well look at her. Don't you do this to my Grandson! He thinks you don't love him anymore."

"That's ridiculous mom, of course I do."

"Is it Jeff? You've taken away everything he loves. You took his mother to a hospital that she didn't come back from. You've taken away his music and you've removed the very thing he wants and needs most of all right now."

"And what's that" he said half-angry at my direct words which I knew he didn't want to hear.

"Your arms Jeff. Please see to it." I snapped and left the room.

Well I know he saw to Virgil and he made an effort to treat the little boy the same as his brothers but the piano playing was still not allowed.

Virgil turned to the only other outlets he had to heal his broken little heart.

He started to write music and songs. I would hear him humming a tune and he would come to me and ask me to write the words down. He couldn't write very well yet and it was hard when he couldn't write the words down before he forgot them. I felt like I worked for him sometimes as he handed me the notepaper to take his "dictation". The songs were always about Lucy, how much he loved her, how much he missed her and asking her to come back to him. Virgil and I share some beautiful secrets from those times.

Then he started to sketch. He wasn't happy with what he drew and threw out page after page in frustration.

He finally came to me and asked for a picture of his mother.

"Grandma please." he begged me. "I need it. I can't 'member her properly."

The only picture of Lucy Jeff now kept in the house was in his bedroom and I knew he would miss it if it suddenly disappeared..

"You'll have to ask Daddy for it." I said. "It belongs to him."

He shook his head.

"No Grandma. Daddy won't let me paint if he finds out I want to paint mommy. Please Grandma it's only for a little bit so I can 'member."

I looked at this artistic child of Lucy Tracy whose only passion it seemed was to remember his mother in some way he could perpetuate.

"All right sweetie. I'll get it for you but only if you can say "remember" for Grandma".

"R...e...member." he said slowly. How desperately he must have wanted that picture.

As the months drew on and Jeff's pain eased a little, Virgil was allowed to start playing his piano again but whenever he started to play the melodies he had written for Lucy, Jeff would ask him to stop.

"Play something else." he would snap. "Try something happy for change."

The years of Virgil Tracy's childhood after his mother died were hard but he seemed to cope much better than his brothers because of the outlet of his artistic abilities.

He went on to draw the most magnificent pictures of his Mother and when he was given a set of proper paints for his tenth birthday he started on the beautiful canvasses he still keeps hidden away from his Father.

Well Virgil I know you were trying to tell me about the party but tomorrow night I am still going to ask you to show your Father the canvas you painted last year for what would have been your parent's thirtieth wedding anniversary.

It is too magnificent not to adorn the walls of this beautiful home.

THE ARTISTIC TEENAGER

Despite all of Virgil's talents, he grew as his brother did before him into early manhood, a normal, well-adjusted young man who loved the arts and of course... girls.

Virgil differed from Scott in his attitude to young ladies. Don't get me wrong, he had the same eye but he wanted more from the girls he knew than Scott did. Hence I didn't have any trouble remembering who his little girlfriends were. All of the girls he brought home had a soul to them, which I could see from the moment I met them. They were either artistic or they sang or they danced.

But he was at that age I caught his brother. The dangerous age where thoughts turned into actions.

I suppose I should be grateful that I at least met the young ladies that most of my Grandsons lost their innocence to and Virgil was no exception.

Now Virgil and I have an understanding about him losing his innocence. He knows I know about him and it's been a bargaining tool with him ever since. I get a lot of cupboards tidied out because I caught him that night.

I'll tell you the tale because you deserve to know that his sensible head can sometimes be taken over by a not so sensible heart.

The young lady Virgil selected for this momentous occasion was a pretty little girl called Susan. She took dance class after school and had struck up a friendship with him when he offered to play for the dance class. She was as tall as he was with a beautiful toned body, red lips and deep blue eyes. She started coming over and the Tracy lounge room turned into her ballet studio as Virgil played...and played...and played.

"Grandma if I have to hear Swan Lake one more time on that piano I swear I'm going to kill myself or someone." complained Scott and John and Gordon and Alan and ...me!

But we couldn't be rude. Virgil loved it and on entering the lounge during her practice I could see why. There she was in her tiny gym shorts and a mighty small gym top for what it contained. She was writhing and bending her body this way and that to the music and he was happily taking it all in! And I mean all!

He had the biggest grin on his face that I'd ever seen as her chest heaved at him. I shook my head in disgust.

As this little relationship grew, she invited Virgil to a campfire that was being held one Saturday night by her dancing school to end a summer dance workshop. His Father said he could go along with her. After all at sixteen how much trouble can you get in at a campfire?

As things turned out, Jeff was caught up attending to a business matter and I was given the job of going along to collect him. I thought I'd go along early because I'd never been to that part of Boston before and if I got myself lost I needed time to find myself again.

I pulled up in the car park amongst the many vehicles and turned off the lights. As I sat in the darkness listening to the radio I saw a young couple, too far away for me to recognise; getting into the back seat of a car across the car park.

I shook my head. There were no morals anymore. What a disgrace. Youngsters like that in backs of cars when they should just be enjoying themselves with some good clean fun like my grandson was. What sort of families were they from and what were their parents doing? I had a mind to go over and tell them off.

I stewed on it for a while and then got out of the car. I decided I would go and tell them off whoever they were. I don't restrict my interference to just my family when the mood takes me.

Well my name is Josie and I felt like one of those do-gooders who put fig leaves on naked statues in parks as I stormed across that car park. About three feet from the car I stopped as common sense took over me. Maybe it was none of my business. I stood absolutely still wondering which way to turn. Did I pretend I was walking past or wait until they were done and then walk past or should I run back to the car?

Neither of them saw me so I stood still. They were far too pre-occupied for that. I couldn't see the face of the young man who was in the car but I've never seen a anyone get a pair of trousers off that quick. I stood there speechless. I looked everywhere but there as they writhed and moaned and carried on until one of them spoke. I recognised the voice. It was my Grandson!

Thank goodness there was a car door between Virgil Tracy and myself at that moment. I went forward and tapped on the window but it was too late. That young man was no innocent now. His brown eyes dilated with shock when he saw me, still in all his glory in the middle of that little Susan.

"Virgil Tracy you get yourself decent and out of that car." I said furiously and stormed off to the car. I sat there fuming. This was no farmhouse. This boy was only sixteen and playing with fire. I didn't care how artistic he was and how much he liked painting the female form, he didn't have to go and sow his wild oats inside of one.

By the time he plucked up the courage to get out of the car and walk across the car park, I had calmed down a little but not enough to save him. I launched myself at him faster and more furiously than his Daddy's rocket had left Cape Kennedy for the moon. He got the verbal caning of his life from me all the way across Boston. I threatened him with everything including the one he feared the most.

"Grandma." he begged. "Please don't tell Dad. It was only the first time I've done it and I promise you I won't do it again."

I scoffed at him. I know I said he was an Evans but he had a Tracy core. He was still his Father's son and the Grandson of Grant Tracy and I know what that man was like. Once a Tracy man got a taste for that particular thing there would be no stopping him.

"You are only sixteen Virgil. What if that little girl ends up pregnant now? What are you going to do"

"No Grandma. She won't. She said she was protected."

I eyed him. How history is possible of repeating itself amazes me.

"I'm going to tell you something young man. That's what your Daddy said twice too and you have two little brothers to prove the theory wrong."

He really panicked then and young Susan gave him a bigger fright with a late cycle. That fright lasted several days. I think that turned him off all together, particularly with the revelation about his father.

COLLEGE AND DISAPPOINTMENT

Virgil finished High School and had great difficulty selecting his path in life. He knew what he wanted to do and naturally that was to follow his talents. His Father had other plans. He acknowledged Virgil was very gifted and happy in pursuing his gifts but he didn't believe he should make a career out of them.

Jeff had always been very cautious pushing his sons away from where their destiny led them, however in Virgil's case he felt he had to. He told his second son that he had no problem with him continuing to play the piano, sing, write music and paint but he had to have the means to make a living for himself.

Jeff made me laugh. He was far too dramatic when talking to sensible, dutiful Virgil. Jeff gave him the starving artist story and worse still, asked this poor eighteen year old what he would do if he lost both his hands or went blind or deaf. Not much painting, piano playing or song writing would go on if that happened Jeff rambled on.

Jeff! Did you ever stop to think how he'd handle himself being an Astronaut or any other career you thought was suitable if he was blind, deaf and had no hands? Come on!

Virgil agreed to do what his Father wanted and was accepted into the Denver College of Technology. He seemed to settle into College life well and excelled in his course in addition to continuing to enjoy his passions...all of them.

Remember I'm Josie and I know everything. He had another passion in his life now; his on and off relationship with a young singer who worked in the bar where he played the piano on Friday evenings. She arrived on the scene in his final college year.

How do I know you're asking me? Especially with him in Denver and me now in New York?

Well, I met her when young Virgil invited his Father, his two youngest brothers and myself to Denver to watch his debut in the theatrical world. He was featuring in a large production at the College. He had painted most of the sets, written the music and had been given a starring role. He wanted his Father to see him.

Jeff had panicked immediately. After four years of College was Virgil going to quit his course? Jeff expected to be attending a graduation in a few months. Virgil assured his father he wasn't about to throw his College course in and go into theatre. The look of relief on Jeff's face was immense.

Despite growling at having to go so far for one evening, I think Jeff was looking forward to seeing the son who looked so much like his Lucy. Jeff missed Virgil in those days even though he probably would never admit it to anyone.

The night came and the four of us arrived at the theatre. Gordon and Alan were looking forward to seeing their brother again. They missed Scott, Virgil and John a great deal.

As we sat in the front row seats Virgil had arranged for us we overheard people talking about our Virgil. How gifted he was. How talented and skilful. What a wonderful person he was. I didn't know about Jeff but I was certainly a proud Grandmother that evening.

The performance started with a song. The words were beautiful and the music was haunting. I looked nervous. I recognised the song. He'd written it for his mother when he was six years old. I looked sideways under my eyelids at Jeff. His jaw was set firmly as it always was when he wasn't too pleased about something. Gordon and Alan were oblivious to the whole thing.

"That was really good hey Grandma." Gordon said as the applause echoed from the audience. I nodded and smiled tightly. There was no way I was going to say anything with Jeff looking like thunder.

The next part was the appearance of Virgil resplendent in a brilliant costume designed from the Middle Ages. If only he'd told us in advance about the part he had. We would have been prepared for it then.

The colour drained out of my face as he took the stage.

He was playing the part of a woman. If that wasn't bad enough for his Father, Virgil was wearing a long curly wig over his short hair to play the role. I was sure it wasn't intentional because I know Virgil would never do such a thing to his Father.

What that wig did was make him the absolute image of the young Lucille Tracy that his Father had met as a young Astronaut at the reception in London. Age, hair length, face, eyes, smile. Oh my God. I never really realised just how identical he was to his mother until that dreadful moment.

I didn't know what to do.

No one else was reacting.

No one else understood except his Father and I.

His youngest sons were laughing so hard at their brother wearing a dress that I thought they were going to split their sides. They shouldn't have been laughing. If those two ever wanted to know what their dead Mother looked like, there she was right in front of their eyes.

I tried to silence them while Jeff's whole face fell as he looked at the girl he fell in love with and had lost. He had complained once that God mocked him when he looked at Virgil's face; well he wasn't going to sit here and have Virgil mock him too.

Mouthing a dreadful oath, Jeff stood up in front of everyone in the auditorium and stormed off. I didn't know whether to stay or not. I looked at Virgil and his devastated expression as he watched his Father leave. Alan and Gordon looked at me confused.

I decided the three of us had to stay for Virgil's sake.

After the performance I had a quiet word to Gordon and Alan and tried to explain why their Father had left like he did. They immediately apologised for laughing. I gave them the key to my hotel room and asked for them to go back there and wait for me.

I knew Jeff well enough to know that he would have opened the closest bottle of scotch by now to kill the pain. I also suspected he'd be drunk by now up in the room he was sharing with the two boys and I didn't want the two boys to see him like that. Scott, Virgil and John saw him years before during those tough times and I still think that's why they turn to the drink sometimes when they are troubled after a failed rescue. I didn't need five Grandsons like that.

I waited quietly in the foyer for him to appear. Finally he did. He was dressed simply in jeans and a striped shirt. His face, so recently made-up to look like a woman's was bare and manly. His face was very pale and distressed.

"Grandma." he said coming forward to kiss me. "Thanks for waiting."

He looked about and asked where his two brothers were.

I said gently.

"Virgil, I sent them back to my room. The three of us really enjoyed your performance though."

He sighed.

"Grandma. I need to talk to you."

I nodded.

"Yes I thought you might sweetie."

He walked me down the road to the bar where all the College students congregated. It was Friday night and the bar was busy.

He motioned me to a small corner that seemed to be reserved for him. As it turned out it was. The pianist they all loved had his own area. Virgil went to the bar and came back with a Scotch for me and a beer for himself.

"Grandma." he began, taking my hand. "What did I do to upset my Father"

He looked so lost and so distraught that I didn't know what to do other than to tell him the truth.

"Sweetie. You played one of your songs about your Mother."

He nodded.

"Yes Grandma. I know. It suited the performance. I never used mother's name in it. I know how Dad feels about my songs. "

"Yes but your Father has asked you not to play them."

"I wrote it ages ago. I thought he'd have forgotten it by now."

"Your Father has never forgotten anything to do with your mother. "

I bit my lip. Should I tell him? I had to.

"Virgil that's not really it. Sweetie the problem was ... you. Dressed in that outfit. "

Virgil's face became sheet white. I thought he was going to pass out on me.

"Grandma was he upset because I was playing a girl? I'm not gay if that's what he thinks."

I looked at this exquisite man. Of course you aren't gay I thought. I remember seeing you in the back seat of that car!

"No darling. It's the fact that with that wig on and looking like you do ... well even I thought you were your mother when I saw you. How must your Daddy have been feeling when you walked out like that? You are the same age as she was when he met her."

Virgil's hand flew to his mouth and I saw his eyes fill with tears.

"Grandma I would never do that to Dad. I didn't think about that."

He was silent for a long while as the tears fell from his eyes. Finally he said quietly.

" I know I look like my mother. I wish I didn't sometimes. I just wanted the play to be good and for Dad to appreciate that I love the arts and be proud of me. Just once. "

I patted his arm. Poor sweet young man. I knew his Father had been an Astronaut. There was no way in God's own heaven he would ever appreciate what the arts meant to someone like Virgil. His mother would but she was gone and had been gone for a long time.

"Sweetie. You leave your Father to me. I want you to know that I am proud of you."

He sighed and held my hand.

"Thanks Grandma. Tonight has at least made me realise one thing."

I looked at him.

"What's that then"

His face said it all.

"If I want my Father to be proud of me I have to do something he thinks is worthwhile."

The face that was so like Lucy Tracy now betrayed her. She never did anything she didn't want to do. Here he was, looking so much like her and about to cave in.

"I have learn to pilot planes like my brother Grandma. At least Dad will think I'm a Tracy son then."

I bit my lip. You are a Tracy son, I thought, even though everything within you is an Evans. Don't change for your Father Virgil, I secretly prayed. Your mother won't forgive you. That wasn't what she was about.

A young girl approached the table. She was almost as exquisite as he was.

"Hey Virg. How'd the play go"

Virgil shrugged, still feeling dreadful about the performance. He saw me looking at the young lady.

"I'm sorry Grandma" he said. "This is my friend Katelyn. She and I jam together here at the club. Katelyn this is my Grandma Josie."

She was pretty and I knew right away they were together. I smiled in acknowledgement.

I deliberately said,

"I am very proud of my grandson."

To which she deliberately said,

"You should be. He is very talented and should be doing what he would like to do."

My she sounded like Lucy. A young woman who believed in the passion and drive of the man she loved. Who believed he should be able to achieve what he wanted no matter what.

I had loved that in Lucy despite what Grant had felt. I loved what Katelyn said despite what Jeff felt.

Jeff Tracy would never have given up Lucille Evans no matter what his Father had said.

Jeff went on to be everything he should have been because of her.

Virgil Tracy should never have given up Katelyn, that's what I say.

Virgil backed down to please his Father.

INTERNATIONAL RESCUE

Katelyn and Virgil drifted apart as Virgil followed the dutiful son role after college and learned to pilot large aircraft. He wasn't happy and pined after Katelyn but despite his unhappiness he still continued to write songs, play his piano and paint.

He painted Katelyn. He still painted his mother. He still felt great pain whenever he looked at the canvasses of his mother and saw himself.

He wished he had been born to look like his Father as Scott had been. Scott was so loved by his Father.

Virgil felt scorned in a way because he did not.

However, when he got the call from his Father to ask him to come on board in International Rescue, this wonderful young man swallowed all the hurt he had been feeling and accepted without reservation.

He craved his Father's love and approval so desperately he was prepared to give up the love of a woman who was his ideal life partner to obtain it.

I only hoped that it has been worthwhile for this talented young man.

Nevertheless, Virgil Tracy now exists as the anchorman of International Rescue. He is brave and strong and resilient.

He also has a broken heart but unlike Scott's heart, his heart is broken from the loss of more than just a woman.

He gave up everything, including who he was for his Father.

Virgil Ivan Tracy, I listen to you play your piano and I watch you paint your pictures but I know you wish you had more in your life. I love you and everything that you really are with all my heart and soul.

Lucy Evans will never be gone while you grace this world.

And by the way darling I want you to know that I know you still can't say the word "remember".

You hide it very well by using the word "recall" but I do know.

Author's Note - What a special young man. I hope you liked his story.

NEXT CHAPTER - JOHN - THE STARMAN


	7. CHAPTER 4 JOHN The Starman

Author's Note:- Thank you for the reviews on "Artist". I am pleased to receive feedback, good and not so good from so many Authors I admire. One can only improve!  
  
CHAPTER FOUR - JOHN - THE STARMAN  
  
As I stand on my balcony before retiring for the night I look out over the ocean again and marvel at how good life is to me. It's nearly midnight and I'm nearly seventy-five and here I am still not asleep.  
  
Jeff and his sons have all gone to bed. Jeff will be asleep within a minute of his head hitting the pillow, Scott, Virgil and Gordon will be snoring their heads off after the two bottles of red wine they drank this evening and John...well I know what John will be doing.  
  
I know if I turn my eyes a little to the left I will see another balcony next to mine.  
  
I also know he will be on that balcony and he will be looking at the stars.   
  
However he doesn't stand there every night like he used to in the many years before International Rescue began.  
  
These days he spends many weeks away from his family and lives his life surrounded by the stars.  
  
There is a silence out here and as I look upwards I feel sense of insignificance as I see the night sky and all it's vastness above me. I observe that tonight the sky is crystal clear with millions of stars shining in the blackness.  
  
The waves lap the beach but there is still silence.  
  
I'm looking over there.  
  
There he is.  
  
His blonde hair is iridescent in the moonlight. His chin is tilted upwards and I notice for the first time how long his elegant neck is. I can't see his blue eyes in the darkness but I know they are dreamy and they scan the heavens for something. There will be a longing in those eyes right now just as there has been a longing in them for all but three years of the twenty-four years my grandson John has been on this earth.   
  
There is nothing he does not know about the stars. He is an Author of astronomy books. Not like me. I don't write things. I just tell tales and there are a few to tell you about this quiet middle son of Jeff Tracy.   
  
You see John Tracy has been searching for his mother in the stars for a long time.   
  
He is distracted and sees me looking at him. He smiles at me in his gentle way and then he teases me.  
  
"Having a party with all your friends Grandma?"   
  
There it is. His discreet way of letting me know what his brother Virgil had tried to tell me earlier. John is always discreet and considerate, a quiet thoughtful young man who simply fits in amongst his brothers.  
  
He is a true middle child.  
  
He does not shine in the eyes of his Father as his eldest brother does but he doesn't want to.  
  
He is not able to draw emotion from people by using artistic talent as his second brother can but he likes to listen to him play.  
  
He is not a mischievous practical joker like his younger brother but he enjoys a joke as much as anyone and has a wicked sense of humor himself.  
  
He is not wild and impetuous like his baby brother but he's saved that baby brother from many a caning from his Father.   
  
John Tracy, you are telling me about the party aren't you?  
  
I'd better answer up.  
  
"Seems like it," I say with a sparkle in my voice.  
  
"It is beautiful out here tonight isn't it Grandma. " he sighs contentedly. "But don't you think you should be in bed?"  
  
"And of course you shouldn't?" I ask.   
  
I know what he is going to say.  
  
"Yes I should Grandma but I just came out to say good night to my mother."  
  
I nod at him. Of course you did. You always do. It was me that started this ritual all those years ago when you were three and a half years old.  
  
He looks up and I see him mouth the words I taught him way back then.  
  
"Mom is the brightest star in the sky and while she's there she will never ever die."   
  
He smiles at me knowing I know what he has just said but he isn't embarrassed that I know. He knows I understand how he feels.  
  
John Glenn Tracy does not look like his mother. He doesn't look like anyone in particular. However a Tracy heart beats within him and that heart has never been able to come to terms with losing her. It has always worried me that of all of her sons, he was one least able to cope with her death. He still can't..  
  
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A STAR IN THE MAKING  
  
John Tracy came to be on this earth as the result of the moon mission undertaken by my son Jeff.  
  
Now that sounds like Jeff brought him back from the moon doesn't it? Well before I go any further let me say there were many times that I thought Jeff must have got him from somewhere out there in Space.  
  
Now I don't want you to think John looked like a Martian or had two heads. He was simply very different from his two brothers.  
  
He came to be on his way the day his Daddy came home from the moon. I had stayed in Florida for the two weeks of the mission to help Lucy with her two young boys. Lucy worried herself to death about Jeff and buried herself in caring for the boys, particularly young Virgil who was a very sweet and adorable little toddler.  
  
Jeff spent his thirtieth birthday on the moon and despite the fact that he couldn't be home with them to celebrate; she and the boys had a little party for him complete with hats and cake. She asked Scott to blow out the candles on Daddy's cake as they watched him on the newscast. Scott eyed the cake and all the candles and replied.  
  
"Daddy sure is old. "   
  
I watched Lucy take that statement in and chew it over in her mind. He wasn't getting any younger and neither was she. She would be twenty-eight in the fall.  
  
Scott would be five in a few months and her precious little Virgil would be two in August. Maybe time would be against her if she left this last baby too much longer. She had promised Jeff a third child and he had promised her a daughter.   
  
It was time they met halfway now.   
  
I knew she had made that decision just by looking at her and as for Jeff. I knew he would oblige her. He wanted to complete his family.  
  
I only had to watch him as he glimpsed her when he returned from the mission. He kissed me and hugged his sons while the whole time his eyes never left her. You wouldn't think they had been married six years by the look in his eyes. She came forward to kiss him and I swear I've never known two people who could go without air for so long.  
  
"Mrs. Tracy I presume?" he asked as they broke apart and then hugged each other again.  
  
"Are you the man from the moon?" she teased.  
  
"I think I came from the moon." he smiled at her.  
  
"Well I'm definitely Mrs. Tracy then."  
  
"Mrs Tracy the man from the moon has missed you more than you know." he said.  
  
Their eyes locked. Her eyes told him she had decided. He knew immediately.   
  
All that evening the two of them sat on the couch opposite me. Could they get any closer to each other I wondered? He talked to us about the moon and she chatted to him about the boys but their eyes gave them away. They didn't want to be here. They wanted to be alone. When my very inhibited son can no longer contain himself to the point where he asked Lucy to come to bed with him in front of me, I knew what to expect soon.  
  
There would soon be another little pair of Tracy feet in this house.   
  
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A STAR IS BORN  
  
John Glenn Tracy came into the world, nine months and ten days to that night.  
  
As with Virgil, Lucy fell pregnant immediately but this time the result of the pregnancy upset her immensely and it was very difficult for her not to show her disappointment as the Doctor lifted her new little son onto her abdomen in the delivery room. She had been sure she was carrying a girl this time. Jeff told me she had tears on her cheeks as she lay there enduring the rest of the birth procedure in silence.   
  
"Another boy." she grumbled later looking at Jeff almost accusingly as she held the tiny squirming bundle with the red face and unexpected beginnings of blonde hair. "You promised me a little girl Jeff. This one doesn't even look like a Tracy."  
  
Jeff felt sheepish in fathering yet another son but I had warned him. I had warned both of them.   
  
Jeff tried to make light of it, kissing her, kissing the baby, kissing me. He perched himself on the bed and put his arm around her. He gave her the brilliant Tracy smile that all of his sons have inherited from him.  
  
"Oh come on Luce." he said kissing her again. " Don't say that. He is a cute little guy. We must have gotten a mixture this time. After the other two looking like one of us I guess it's a bit of a shock. Not to mention the blonde hair."  
  
"I could have gotten used to the blonde hair," she replied and for the first time I heard her little English voice sound sullen. "It's the fact that it's another boy and this was my last chance to have a girl that I'm not happy about."  
  
"I know baby. I'm sorry. I shouldn't make promises to you that nature won't let me keep.'"   
  
Nothing more was said as he looked at her and she looked at him with her disappointed face. I looked at them both not knowing what to say. For my own part I thought the new little one was lovely but I knew she didn't want to hear that at the moment.   
  
"Lucille I can't very well let you leave him here and try again." Jeff said anxiously as the silence between them continued.   
  
He was worried now. He hated breaking promises to her and he knew how much she had been looking forward to a sister for Scott and Virgil.  
  
"I have no intentions of leaving him here or trying again Jeff." she said and meant it. "I just wanted a girl for my own sake that's all."  
  
She paused for a minute and looked down at her little baby boy whose grey blue eyes were now open. She looked at him for a long time. She stroked his little bald head and his tiny hand closed over her fingers. She traced her finger around his features. They weren't Tracy features or the distinctive Evans features of Virgil's. They were delicate, yet strong. It was a new feeling for her. Is this what their babies were supposed to look like?  
  
"Yes he is cute and I guess... well... he's mine... " she said, trying to get her head around it all.  
  
"He's ours" Jeff corrected her firmly, holding her brown eyes with his dark blue ones.  
  
She continued to look at the baby. I am a firm believer that nature has its own way of making mothers love their babies and watching this disappointed young girl finally bond with her third little boy was a sheer relief.   
  
"Hey there my little star man." she whispered softly as she stroked his cheek.   
  
She was oblivious to Jeff or to me.   
  
"Your Daddy and I made you the night he came back from the moon. You'll go up in the stars like him too one day. I know you will."  
  
His mouth restlessly moved about looking for her breast. As she obliged him she looked over at my son and gave him the smile that told him it really didn't matter. This baby would always remind her that he made it home safely from the moon and of the night he took her to the stars with him, not once, but twice, as they made him.  
  
  
  
"Jeff, he's our last baby." she said softly. "You should know that I'd love him no matter what."   
  
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THE BABY FROM OUTER SPACE.  
  
I was glad Lucille made that statement. I had to keep reminding her that she said it particularly in the first two weeks after she brought him home. John cried morning, noon and night and nothing she could do would settle him down. She gave up feeding him herself, thinking it was her milk. She rocked him and sang to him like she had sung to Virgil but this baby didn't stop to listen. He was off the planet, out in the cosmos somewhere screaming at the top of his lungs.  
  
He was so difficult that Jeff pleaded with me to delay my return home to Kansas. He was in the early throes of his business and whilst he tried to help Lucy as best he could, he was tied up most of the time. Scott wasn't making it any easier for them either with his jealous tantrums.   
  
As I walked the floor with little John I started to work on my own mathematical theory.  
  
Yes my name is Josie and my only real talent is knowing everything but I was convinced that this baby had to be the result of something going wrong with Jeff up there on the moon.  
  
John looked so different from his brothers and all this crying of his was very different too! I convinced myself that when men go to the moon something must happen to their bodies. Maybe something important overheats up there and then their babies go all strange. Well whatever happened, little John Tracy's unsettled state had me wondering if I had stumbled onto something.  
  
What did Jeff do when I told him? Laugh that's what!  
  
"You mark my words Jeff. I'm right about this. You're lucky that you didn't wait to have Virgil until after you came back. He'd have been like this and there would have been no way Lucy would have had a third one then."  
  
"Mom you're priceless." he teased, hysterical with laughter. "You won't even get a chance to prove your theory. Remember? Lucy and I aren't having any more children."   
  
Humph. I went home to Kansas on that note. I almost wished they had an accident just so I could prove to him I was right.   
  
I spoke to Lucy quite often over the next few months and she confided in me that she worried there was something wrong with John.  
  
My ears pricked up. My theory must be right! I had a mind to ask her to get Jeff on the telephone to tell him.  
  
Lucy said John was still crying constantly. She'd had him seen by several Doctors and all of them said he was fine physically. The problem was emotional.  
  
"Mrs. Tracy I can't leave the room for one second. Not even one or he becomes totally distraught. It takes me ages to calm him down afterwards, " she said in a worn out voice.   
  
I frowned. Jeff had been a way a bit with this new business of his. Maybe the little one needed his Daddy around a bit more to lessen his dependence on her. I suggested that this was probably the cause.  
  
I appeared to be right but things didn't change as he left babyhood and could toddle after his two brothers. That was the problem. My little Johnny didn't follow them around. He sat on the floor right next to young Lucy, or on the chair right next to Lucy, or on Lucy's lap, or in Lucy's arms. He didn't give that poor girl a moment's peace.  
  
I was relieved in many ways that Lucy did have the "accident". At least now she was going to have to force Johnny's independence. I might also say it gave me the chance to prove to Jeff that my "theory" about him was right. Wait until the next one is born I thought to myself. Then you'll know I'm right Jeff! However I must confess I wasn't looking forward to having two children of John's temperament around.  
  
Lucille for her part was unhappy about the new pregnancy, and unhappy about Jeff being away so often. It didn't help that John continued to erode her by insisting his mommy stayed nearby whether it be allowing him to sit on the floor next to her, or sitting on the chair next to her, on sitting on her lap, or carried in her arms.  
  
When Gordon was born, and I was of no help whatsoever being stuck back home in Kansas, I often worried about how Lucy was coping with that dreadfully dependent little boy as well as the stress and strain of dealing with a premature baby in the house.She wasn't.  
  
Life did not improve for her and in fact had gotten harder with this tiny blonde boy from the stars. Lucy struggled to cope with little Gordon's special needs and John did not help things with his demands on her physically and emotionally.   
  
Jeff said he felt totally useless sometimes trying to deal with John's dependence. He didn't know what to do with him.  
  
John would start to cry just as Lucy picked Gordon up from his cot to feed him. So John sat next to Lucy while she fed him. He would cry every time Lucy left the room to change Gordon. So he would stand beside her as she did so. He would cry when she bathed the baby. So he was bathed with Gordon. When Gordon was put back in his cot, did John go to bed? No. There he was right next to his mother. Jeff shook his head. It was a household in sheer pandemonium!  
  
I kept saying to myself, "It was that trip to the moon Jeff."  
  
Things came to a head when baby number five was found to be on his way and Lucy struggled against impossible odds to cope with the new pregnancy, her little premature baby who was less than six months old and her third son... our little Johnny.   
  
I often think back in hindsight how much Jeff expected of that poor little girl. I still say that he saw the signs of her decline but it wasn't until I arrived in Boston during her sixth month and she had needed to be hospitalised that he was prepared to do anything about John.   
  
Now with Lucy in hospital, Jeff's chagrin grew with regard to his third son. Jeff decided he would make his little boy grow up...the hard way.  
  
"Johnny you're not a baby any more ", Jeff reinforced to him."Leave Mommy alone for a bit. She's tired."  
  
John had looked at his father timidly but had still clung desperately to her.   
  
"Johnny. Mommy doesn't need all this." he warned again.  
  
No result.   
  
"John. You're not to carry on near mommy like that or you'll get a caning from me!" he said forthrightly and meant it.  
  
The caning ended up happening. The nonsense immediately stopped but John was now afraid to ask his mother to hold him close. Lucy did not know about the caning and was surprised at her little boy's quick independence of her. Jeff confided in me that he was afraid he had done the wrong thing despite the problem apparently being solved.  
  
I was never in favour of caning myself but Grant was. Jeff certainly knew about that. I told Jeff if it had made life better for his little girl it was probably the right thing to do under the circumstances. She couldn't have kept on like that.  
  
  
  
As you know Lucille Tracy died giving birth to John's baby brother...   
  
John Glenn Tracy did not understand what had happened to his precious mommy in that hospital. He saw everyone crying. There was a new baby next to her at the hospital.The baby came home. Mommy didn't. If you guessed it was a recipe for disaster, you guessed right!  
  
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THE STAR IN THE SKY  
  
Every night after Lucy had died; John would come to Jeff and ask him the same series of questions.  
  
"Daddy, when is mommy coming back?"  
  
To which Jeff gave the same answer.  
  
"Mommy isn't coming back John."  
  
To which John would ask the same question.  
  
"Why not Daddy?"  
  
To which Jeff gave the same answer.  
  
"Mommy died John."   
  
To which John would say.  
  
"I want mommy to come back."  
  
To which Jeff would say.  
  
"So do I John. Run along now"  
  
It finally got the better of me, not Jeff.  
  
"Jeff," I said "You'll have to explain things properly to John."  
  
Jeff shook his head.  
  
"Mother, he is too young to understand. He'll eventually stop asking for her."   
  
I shook my head in disagreement. That little boy was a mighty intelligent three and a half year old and he'd been asking for nearly two weeks and I knew he would continue to ask.  
  
After another week of it even Jeff couldn't take it any longer.  
  
He sat John on his knee and tried to explain what had happened to Lucy as clearly as he could.   
  
I sat opposite him feeding Alan. It was to be the beginning of all of our trouble with little Johnny.  
  
"John. Do you remember when Daddy took mommy to the hospital to get the baby?" Jeff began.  
  
John's blue eyes glanced across the room at Alan.  
  
"Yes Daddy." he replied.  
  
"Well when Mommy had Alan she got sick and the Doctor's couldn't make her better again."  
  
His eyes were still fixed on Alan. Careful Jeff, I thought to myself uneasily.  
  
"So mommy died and went to heaven." Jeff swallowed.  
  
Oh dear! I could see John's jaw suddenly set like his Fathers did when he formed an opinion on something. He had worked out in his little blonde head that Alan had something to do with his mother going away.  
  
"But Daddy, when is mommy coming back from heaven?" he asked innocently.  
  
Jeff then knew he had to continue in the only way he knew how.  
  
"Johnny. Do you remember when Monty died?"  
  
Monty had been Scott's pet hamster who had died the previous summer. He had been nothing more than a rat and a rodent in my eyes but despite all of that he had been a very much loved member of the Tracy family. Scott had adored him. John had too.  
  
John nodded at his Father.  
  
"Do you remember what we did with Monty?"  
  
John nodded again. Jeff put a finger under John's chin, tilting his face up to look at him.   
  
"I need you to tell me John." he said deliberately.   
  
"We put Monty in the box and dug a hole for him under the tree outside. Scotty covered him over after we put him in."  
  
"That's right", Jeff said as he steeled himself. "Now Johnny, do you remember where mommy was the day we said goodbye to her?"  
  
John nodded, his face dropping and his little eyes looking sad.  
  
"Tell me John." Jeff insisted.  
  
"…in that white box Daddy."  
  
"And where did we take that white box?"  
  
His eyes dropped from his Fathers.  
  
"To that big hole."   
  
Jeff tightened his grip on his little three year son.  
  
"That's right Johnny we did and then we came back home without Mommy didn't we?"  
  
His little head nodded stiffly and the tears formed in his eyes. He was starting to understand. Mommy was like Monty and he was never going to see her again.  
  
"Johnny. Has Monty come back?"  
  
He shook his little head.  
  
"No Daddy."  
  
"Johnny, Mommy isn't coming back either. Just like Monty." Jeff said gently, tears in his own eyes.  
  
John started to cry in his Fathers arms but the whole time he cried he looked at his little brother in my arms.   
  
I just knew we were going to have trouble.  
  
Unbeknown to either of us, John later dug Monty up in the garden to see if he was still the same. He wasn't. A three year started imagining what had happened to his mother.   
  
Then the nightmares started. He would awake screaming his little heart out and then sob for hours at a time as he pictured that mommy looked like Monty now did.  
  
After a particularly bad night, I decided that this could not be allowed to continue. John certainly understood what had happened now but he couldn't deal with it in that form of reality. I remembered what Lucy had called this little boy that first day when she had been so disappointed.   
  
Her little star-man.   
  
God why hadn't I thought of that before!  
  
I took the little boy out onto the porch and picked him up. He was only as heavy as Gordon with his fine features and delicate bone structure.  
  
"John. Look up in the sky." I said.   
  
He looked up as I had requested.   
  
"What do you see sweetie?" I asked him.  
  
"Stars Grandma."  
  
"They are more than stars", I said, "Did you know they are the faces of all the people who have gone to heaven? Grandpa is a star up there and so is your mommy."  
  
He looked a little skeptical. He was extremely intelligent and wasn't easily fooled. However, I think he preferred the idea of his mommy being a star instead of like Monty and how he had ended up after being in the ground.  
  
"Which one is mommy?" he asked eagerly, his little face lighting up for the first time in weeks.  
  
"Mommy is the biggest and prettiest star in the sky." I said, pointing at the evening star. "Look John, I think she sees you. She is twinkling at you. Look at how bright she is."  
  
He smiled. He was the first of the three elder Tracy children to smile in four weeks. He looked at the night sky for a long time, his blue eyes scanning the heavens.  
  
"Grandma, why didn't Daddy tell me Mommy is a star?"  
  
"That's because Grandma is the only one that knows." I said feeling suddenly very wise. "Your mommy is the brightest star in the sky and while she's there she will never ever die."   
  
Those words put his little to heart to rest at least. It certainly didn't heal it.  
  
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STAR STRUCK  
  
Little John came to know he had a future with the stars that night and I had started him on the path to it.  
  
Jeff was happy John had settled down and even took him out on the porch himself some nights to look at "mommy". Jeff's love of astronomy resurfaced as he stood there with John. He began to point out the various constellations to his little son. John absorbed the information like a sponge and he loved the time with his Daddy. Jeff allowed him to look at his study books on the subject of astronomy, which had long been packed up in the attic. John, at four years old, carried them about like they were the most precious items in the world.  
  
He would often sit next to me and ask me to read the words in the books to him. I was happy enough to do so. I didn't understand a word of it and I'm sure he didn't either at that stage but he listened attentively to every word. I hated it when he turned the page to the full illustration of the evening star.  
  
"Grandma, read to me about mommy." he would beg and every time I did I had to try to remember what I'd pretended to read last time. He was very intelligent as I said before and I often wonder what he thought of me once he was able to read the proper words himself. There would have been nothing in the book about a beautiful mother with curly chestnut hair, brown eyes and a pretty smile who looked down over the earth at her five little boys. Oh well, my name is Josie and I've told worse lies in my time to keep this family going in the right direction.  
  
The astronomy side of things certainly kept John happy but he still had trouble coping with losing his Mother. Nothing made it more apparent than the night after his Father and I had packed up Lucy's belongings for disposal. Virgil came to me all choked up.  
  
"Grandma, how come Johnny gets to keep some of mommy's things and I can't?" he asked tearfully.  
  
"Johnny isn't allowed to keep anything." I said. "They're all being picked up in the morning."  
  
"He got some things out of the boxes Grandma. Can I do that too?"  
  
Oh dear I thought. What next in this house?  
  
After assuring Virgil that John wasn't supposed to have opened the boxes and no he couldn't have anything out of them, I went in the direction of the room they shared.  
  
As I entered the darkened room, I saw John lying on his side on top of his bed covers with Lucy's favorite pullover snuggled close to his body. He was rocking backwards and forwards as she used to do to him to get him to stop crying. I visualized the depth of this child's loss as I remembered him hugging Lucy when she wore that pullover. The smell of her perfume was in the air.  
  
"Johnny. Grandma said you couldn't keep that." Virgil sniffed. "And you can't have mommy's books either or her perfume. "  
  
He looked at me.   
  
"They're in the dresser Grandma. He put the perfume on the jacket to try to 'member her. I can 'member her after smelling it too."  
  
I rolled my eyes at Virgil who was determined to either get something for himself to keep or make sure that John didn't keep anything.  
  
"Sweetie, come on now. Let's put these things back." I said gently trying to ease the garment from him.  
  
John shook his head and clung to the pullover tighter and put his thumb in his mouth. He was four years old now and as with all Jeff's sons, the stubborn streak was evident. A legacy of his mother who never did anything she didn't want to do.   
  
"John. I'm going to have to get Daddy if you don't let me put that away." I warned. I was hoping he would give it up. I didn't want Jeff to go through any more heartache today. Even the threat of another caning from his father did not deter him. He had his mommy back again in his eyes. He could smell her and feel her in that pullover.  
  
Virgil "kindly" offered to fetch Jeff.  
  
With Jeff now involved, the pullover soon went back in the box and the perfume was poured down the sink. John screamed through the whole thing of course and got the resultant caning from it.   
  
However I hastily took Lucy's books to my room. I would give these to John when he was older.   
  
And for the record Virgil doesn't know I know he took one of Lucy's handkerchiefs out of the box. He keeps it folded inside his pillowcase. It's still there.  
  
John also had tremendous trouble with Alan. You will recall that I had been uneasy the day Jeff had explained to John about Lucy dying. As I suspected John had it in his head that Alan was responsible.  
  
I would often catch John staring accusingly at Alan. Alan, to make matters worse, was quite obsessed with John and followed him everywhere.   
  
"Go away Alan." he would say pushing him to the ground. "I don't love you."  
  
Alan was still too small to understand what John was saying but it worried the hell out of me. These little Tracy boys were all very close as a result of losing their mother and if nothing else they loved each other unconditionally.  
  
I spoke to Jeff about it. He promised to keep an eye on John. Naturally with his work commitments he didn't. The undercurrent was there.  
  
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STARRY EYED  
  
Young Johnny grew up as had his older brothers before him but he still remained totally different to them both. He was tall but much slighter in stature than Scott and Virgil with fine bones, a perfect complexion, a strikingly handsome face and bottomless baby blue eyes.  
  
He was also extremely clever and excelled academically. He studied astronomy with a passion now. He would often speak with Jeff out on the porch about a new star he had found and how far he thought it was from earth.   
  
Jeff enjoyed fifteen-year-old John's company a great deal. He had purchased a very expensive telescope for John and used his influence to obtain privileges for him to view the stars at several of the larger observatories in the United States. It was always a treat for John to visit these places with his Father and it continued to cement his destiny.  
  
"You know Grandma," this child of the stars would say to me as he sat at the kitchen bench drinking yet another glass of milk. "I'm going to write a book on Astronomy before I finish High School."   
  
"That will be nice sweetie." I said only half-listening. "What are you going to call your book?"  
  
He rose from the bench and looked at me as he reached for a piece of chocolate cake.   
  
"Lucy's universe." he replied. "The evening star is going to be on the front cover. I remember she had a book with a similar cover. I remember her saying how important that book was to her. "  
  
I nodded and remembered her books, still hidden in the bottom of my dresser.  
  
I called John to come after me. He hesitated, obviously thinking he was in trouble for something and about to get the Josie "you should know better young man" lecture.  
  
"No sweetie I have something to give you." I said.   
  
The look on that young man's face when I handed the five books to him was priceless. He quickly searched for the book with the star on the cover. It was the third one of the five. He ran his hand over the cover and looked at me and smiled; that brilliant smile of his Father's.   
  
"Grandma I can't believe you kept these" he said almost incredulously. "I thought Dad… well you know..."  
  
The incident at age four must have really traumatized John for him to still remember it.  
  
He kissed me and I hugged him in return. Grandsons are for hugging and I especially enjoyed hugging this one. He may have been the middle child but those books were for him and if they could give him joy now well I was glad.   
  
He opened the cover and saw her name hand-written inside the sleeve.   
  
"Lucille Tracy." To the left of it was a message. He read it aloud to me.  
  
"Merry Christmas Lucy. I wish you were here. Read this and think of me. Love Mum."  
  
The title of the book was "Remember me."   
  
His face dropped as he closed it.   
  
"My other Grandmother gave her this book to remember her." he said quietly.   
  
After a while he added, "You know Grandma; I don't even know what my other grandmother looks like."  
  
I frowned. That was a sore point with me. When Lucy had died, her mother had attended the funeral and gone straight back home to England again. She had not communicated with her grandsons ever since. Jeff often worried that she blamed him for Lucille's passing.  
  
I patted John's arm.  
  
"Well at least you know what I look like. Read the books and think of your mother John."  
  
He smiled again but this time the smile was different. It reminded me of that smile Lucy had given Jeff in the hospital when she had said. "He's our last baby. "You should know that I'd love him no matter what."   
  
John loved his books and John loved his astronomy. He still didn't care much for his youngest brother and that was obvious. I pointed it out to Jeff yet again. He dismissed me totally this time.  
  
"Mother, Scott and Virgil are close. Alan and Gordon are close. John and Gordon are close. I'd have no hours in the day if I worried if Scott was close to John or whether Virgil was close to Alan as well as every other combination between the five of them. They all get on just fine. "  
  
"But Jeff…" I interjected.  
  
"Mom, John takes the blame for just about everything Alan does wrong. I've caned John that many times for things I know aren't his fault, I'm starting to worry he won't make it to adulthood. John admits to doing the wrong thing so he can protect Alan. If he didn't care much for the boy I'm sure he wouldn't do that."  
  
He turned away from me then. I knew what that meant. Subject closed.  
  
I opened my mouth to speak but knew he wasn't going to listen. I walked away muttering discontentedly,  
  
"Jeff you're wrong. I know you are! John's just made himself Alan's whipping boy because he feels guilty about blaming his brother for his mother's death."  
  
What's a whipping boy you ask? How old am I if you don't know that!  
  
On top of that, what do you think is going to happen if you have a blonde, blue-eyed grandson with handsome features, a lovely gentle nature and suddenly teenage hormones take a firm hold on him?  
  
Do you believe me if I say I don't know in John's case but I can have a good guess at it.  
  
Jeff never told me about this but I know most of the details anyway. My second youngest Grandson certainly filled me in on what he knew.  
  
Jeff had been working from home this particular day and I was in the kitchen baking a pie for Dinner when the telephone rang. Jeff had called to me that he would pick it up in his Study and assuming he was expecting a business call I did not show an interest in it.   
  
The next thing I knew he was in the hallway pulling on his coat.   
  
"Going out dear?" I asked as he picked up the car keys from the side table.  
  
His dark blue eyes always gave him away. When they flashed like cold steel, he was angry, when they shone, he was happy, when they moved about dangerously, he was really angry. Let me say this to you. Jeff's eyes were flashing like cold steel and moving about dangerously. Now there's a combination not to be fooled with.  
  
He said nothing and slammed the door behind him. What had happened I wondered? It was rare he reacted to business calls like he just had. He returned some hours later in no mood to talk.   
  
"I'll be in my Study mother." he snapped. "Let me know when the boys all get home."  
  
I shrugged. It was probably just Jeff having one of his black moods. It must have been business and I stayed out of that area.  
  
Some hours later, my third Grandson came home from High School. He was now in his senior year.   
  
"Hey Grandma," he said kissing my cheek. "How was your day?"  
  
I commenced what I thought would be our normal afternoon conversation. I noticed however his eyes looking more than just a bit anxiously towards his Father's study.  
  
"Is Dad home?" he asked.  
  
"Yes why?" I asked.  
  
Before he could answer my two youngest grandsons burst through the door into the kitchen. They said almost in unison.  
  
"Hi Grandma." And "Hey Grandma."  
  
As Gordon opened the refrigerator he and Alan looked at John, looked at each other and then burst into hysterical laughter. John reddened and focused his attention on young Alan.  
  
"It figures you'd think this was funny Alan. That's just what you're like." he fired and stormed out. I frowned at the two of them.  
  
"What's going on then?" I asked.  
  
Gordon looked sideways at Alan who was standing there quite taken back at being singled out by John. However oblivious to John's feelings about him his expression soon changed and the two of them laughed uproariously again. Gordon was in his first year in High School and knew the whole story. The whole school knew. Naturally he had told Alan. I shooed Alan away and pulled Gordon to one side.  
  
"What's going on young man?" I demanded.  
  
"John got caught by the Principal today." he said mischievously.  
  
"Caught? Doing what?"   
  
"He and this girl were supposed to be doing a science project in the library but they were found by the Principal in the gym. Umm Grandma... they were...well...you know..."  
  
Gordon shuffled his feet but I had gotten the general idea. He continued.  
  
  
  
"I saw Dad at school later. He was looking pretty mad. Not only did John get caught doing that, he had been smoking … uh something not quite legal. Anyhow John's been suspended Grandma."  
  
My mouth fell to the floor. My dear sweet innocent little Johnny…suspended?   
  
Well it had been the truth and whilst Jeff never said anything to me, I'm sure he had a lot to say to John. Johnny was a mighty quiet young man for quite a few months. Whether that day had been his first experiment with physical matters I'll never know but like Virgil; he had been well and truly caught out. But caught by the Principal? Oh dear!  
  
John finished school and looked to his future. For my part I still can't believe this sweet gentle young man could have been suspended. Smoking illegal substances? They had the wrong person!  
  
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````STARMAN  
  
Johnny was determined to work with the stars. It was this ambition that led him to his life path. His College course was selected after much discussion with his father. He selected Laser and Communications Studies at Harvard.   
  
Jeff had worked out that post-study John would be able to be accepted to NASA. John seemed happy enough with his Father's plan and took up his Father's offer to pull strings if he needed him to. How unlike his eldest brother who had balked at the very mention of his father being involved in his career!   
  
John commenced the course and excelled in it. He identified star after star that was new to the universe. He published four books including the planned "Lucille's universe" during his time there.  
  
I was glad this young man was excelling in his own quiet way. He deserved to.  
  
He was also excelling in other ways too I believe.   
  
College life suited John down to the ground. So many girls were drawn to his handsome blonde looks and gentle nature that he was well and truly occupied in the evenings when he wasn't looking at the stars. How do I know? Gordon Tracy can't keep anything a secret that's how! John should have learned by now not to tell him a thing.  
  
John himself didn't give much away when he contacted his father or myself. His calls mainly covered his studies, his readings and his writings. He kept his busy love life to himself. However I decided to ask about it during one of his infrequent visits home. The visit happened to coincide with the mandatory visit for the anniversary of his Mother's death.  
  
"John. You often talk to me about your studies. What about talking to me about yourself?" I asked this very complex young man whose life was the stars.  
  
He looked surprised.  
  
"What about me Grandma?"   
  
"Well. Do you have any lady friends?"  
  
He reddened. "Sure I do Grandma. There is no-one special though. I find it…well… hard...to get close to anyone." he finished with difficulty.  
  
I looked silently at him understanding perfectly. I let him continue as it all unexpectedly tumbled out of him.  
  
"Grandma is there something wrong with me?" he suddenly asked and I sensed the worry and frustration in his voice. "I can't get close to anyone except my family. I can meet girls. I can be charming and funny and friendly and they seem to like me. I can take them out and bring them home. I can enter in physical relationships with them. But Grandma, I can't bring myself to fall in love with any of them or even try...in case... well in case they die."  
  
I immediately felt for that poor young man. Even I had not realized the extent of the emotional damage that had occurred to this middle child when he lost his Mother. It was now affecting his ability to relate. I personally felt I should suggest he get some help but one doesn't say, "you need a shrink young man" to your own Grandson.  
  
"John, losing your Mother was hard for all of you and most of all for you as you were very close to her. I don't know how I can assure you that the likelihood of losing the woman you love is very slight in the overall scheme of things."  
  
"It happened to my Father." John said quietly. "And if God will do it to someone like him, he will do it to anyone. I've been through it once and I never want to go through it again. Dad hasn't gone back a second time either has he?"  
  
This intelligent young man had made a valid point about his Father but I did not want him to go through his life without feeling that special rush in his blood that falling in love would give him. I made a point of telling him how quickly things could change in his life and told him about how his Father had reacted on meeting his mother.  
  
"Your Father was very like you John. He was studious, retiring, and wary of everyone. But the day he met your mother...well he changed. Love does that to a man. Don't give up on yourself. You'll meet that special little girl in years to come."  
  
He nodded although unconvinced. He kissed my forehead.  
  
"You know Grandma, if I do meet someone, I hope she is as wise as you are."  
  
Wise? I thought as I watched him go. Not really. I just looked out for my Grandsons.  
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
John graduated with first class honors from Harvard and immediately went to work for NASA. As the son of Jeff Tracy all eyes were upon him and despite the fact that he was the quiet middle child of the retired Astronaut, he quickly established himself as a leading Officer in space monitoring. His knowledge of the stars was so comprehensive that he was immediately launched into space to monitor the next attempted landing on Mars.  
  
Jeff's chest swelled to twice its normal size as John spoke about the rush he got going into space for the first time. He was so proud of his son. I simply remembered his mother saying in the hospital.   
  
"You'll go up in the stars like him too one day. I know you will."  
  
The days were long for John in the satellite and without much female company, his opportunity to fall in love as I had hoped wasn't progressing very well.   
  
It never got to progress at all.  
  
Jeff Tracy offered his son the opportunity to monitor the satellite of International Rescue.   
  
John did not want to leave NASA.  
  
It was like Jeff had been slapped in the face when John refused. They fell out badly.  
  
"Where is your sense of family?" Jeff had railed at him.  
  
"Dad. I need a sense of myself." he replied. "I'll never find it if I return home and go back to being just the middle son again."  
  
His Father had hung up on him. John was resolute. He was happy in NASA.   
  
It took his brother Virgil to talk him around.  
  
"We owe Dad." I believe Virgil said.  
  
"I don't owe Dad anything." I believe John said.  
  
"Johnny. Dad has been everything to us since we lost Mom. You know what he's been through. He's now doing this for her. Surely it's the least you could do for him?"  
  
Once John knew it was for his mother, he agreed to consider it. John still believed that no one had ever loved his mother quite like he had, not even his Father. Even with that in mind It took him three weeks to sign up.   
  
He resigned from NASA much to the disappointment of its' high ranking officials. John Glenn Tracy was giving up a very big future amongst its' ranks. His Father had done the same thing.   
  
Now John spends his quiet existence in Thunderbird Five alone. He will never meet that special someone as he drifts silently in space, listening to calls in hundreds of languages as he monitors the earth for International Rescue. John speaks over twenty languages. He is vigilant and committed to his duty.  
  
We see him one month in two as his youngest brother reluctantly takes over his role. The youngest brother he still blames for his mother's death. I often wonder if Jeff knew I was right after all about how Johnny feels about Alan and that is why he made sure they would rarely see each other.  
  
However when he is away from us he misses his Father and his brothers dreadfully and his contribution as the middle son in a family of extreme brilliance and exceptional bravery is sometimes overlooked.  
  
Not by me.  
  
There is many a night that I make it my business to steal into the lounge room of our home and make a late night call to my Grandson John.  
  
"Darling. How are you?" I ask him.  
  
"Grandma. I'm fine," he says to me. "I was just saying good night to my mother."   
  
His blue eyes look at mine over the televideo and we think the same thing.  
  
"Mom is the brightest star in the sky and while she's there she will never ever die."   
  
I love this young man with all my heart.  
  
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I hope I have depicted John in a way that makes him a little less of the enigma he was in the show.   
  
NEXT CHAPTER - THE AQUANAUT  
  
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	8. CHAPTER 5 GORDON THE AQUANAUT

Author's Note - This Chapter has been a long time in the making and thank you to Yvette for her help! Charl I hope you like this! It's for you. mcj  
  
CHAPTER 5 - THE AQUANAUT  
  
Well it's five thirty in the morning and it's my birthday. Yep - I'm seventy-five years old now. I guess I should be depressed but living here makes that hard.  
  
It will soon be time to put on the morning coffee that Scott and I share before the sun rises each day. Scott sleeps less than I do and morning coffee on the balcony is a welcome ritual I share with him! It's time I got up and out of bed.   
  
As I dress in the darkness I look out my window at the sea. Despite the fact that there are no lights for thousands of miles around us, it shimmers against the darkness of the night. I look out across the dark blanket of water and marvel at the calmness that prevails. Calmness that is ever present on Tracy Island.  
  
I see a dark figure on the beach. I nod as I recognise him and acknowledge that this young man never misses a morning.  
  
  
  
Gordon Tracy; Jeff's second youngest son; International Rescue's Aquanaut.  
  
He's been awake every morning at dawn for years. He swims in the sea or trains in the pool as part of his daily routine. Above everything in his life, he loves the sea. It mesmerises him. It's as much a part of him as his signature red hair.  
  
He walks across the sand carrying a surfboard under his arm. It looks like he's chosen the sea this morning. I won't see him until at least eight o'clock then. He'll swim out to the point, he'll surf the heavy swell on the other side of the island, sit alone on the beach there and then swim back. When he's through he'll walk sand all through the kitchen, grin at me, kiss the top of my head and ask what's on for breakfast. I will tousle that red hair of his and admonish him about the sand. He will just kiss me again. I love that young man and I know how much he loves me.   
  
I see him stretching his shoulders in preparation to swim and say it again. He loves the sea. I now see him grimace and hold his back for a few moments.   
  
He's obviously having trouble this morning.   
  
I watch him sit on the beach for a while. He's debating whether he is up to going.   
  
You see; my grandson Gordon may love the sea but the sea almost ended his life not so long ago. Emotionally, it almost ended the Tracy family. Dealing with Jeff as a devastated young widower was one thing but dealing with him as a Father about to lose his son was another and as for his brothers...   
  
Like I said, emotionally, it nearly ended us all.  
  
  
  
We are just so lucky to still have him. He says his Mother sent him back to us when he didn't want to return. He wanted to stay with the others who had died including his special little girl.   
  
As the first light of day begins to fall over Tracy Island I see him stand up and stretch again. This time his well-developed shoulders and back appear to be holding up all right but he is in pain. I know he is in pain by how he bends to pick up the surfboard.   
  
He enters the water regardless and becomes one with the sea as his wetsuit merges with the blackness. He has gone.  
  
Only two people can detect if Gordon Tracy feels pain these days.  
  
I am one of them.   
  
His brother Alan is the other.   
  
I am here. Alan is not. However he will be later tonight I remind myself. When he "surprises" me by coming home from Thunderbird Five for my birthday. The two of us help Gordon over his rough days and I am glad that Alan will be returning this evening.  
  
It looks like today might be one of those days and Gordon will need his brother.  
  
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````  
  
ACCIDENTALLY BORN  
  
Gordon Cooper Tracy's whole life story seems to have been a series of accidents.  
  
As I've already told you the fourth son of Jeff and Lucille Tracy was found to be on the way as a result of a timing accident. I can understand how both his mother and father would have felt I suppose. They thought they had completed their family eighteen months before. Their three little boys, one dark, one chestnut and one blonde kept them both on their toes, and Jeff's Aerospace business was becoming bigger. He also had plans for further expansion. They were an extremely busy young couple.  
  
Neither of them was prepared for the shock when a missed month and "stomach bug" turned out to be seven months worth of pregnancy. Lucy was furious with herself. After her first accident with Scott before they were married, she had been very careful. She'd had her two other babies exactly when she wanted them and quite frankly she didn't want any more now.   
  
Jeff was pretty good about it though, too good I think. I somehow sensed he felt it was a bit of poetic justice that he'd managed to get one up on Lucy for a change even if it did mean his life plans would need to alter a little. He didn't want any more babies either but they were going to have another one and that was that.  
  
My view? Accidents happen. You have to learn to live with them and the consequences. I was to say this many times over my years raising Gordon.  
  
Well, as I said earlier, Lucy ended up with only seven months, not nine months of pregnancy. Our little Gordon was now involved in his second accident; the accident of his premature birth into the world.   
  
It was Valentine's Day. I wasn't around at the time, and neither was Jeff. I was on the farm in Kansas; Jeff was at a business conference in New York. We'd both planned to be in Boston in April when the baby was due of course but accidents happen.  
  
Lucy went through the whole thing herself from falling very badly at the shopping centre, being admitted to hospital, being told her little unplanned baby was in trouble, consenting to the Caesarean section, and undergoing theatre.  
  
Jeff and I of course did all the worrying for her. He flew himself back from New York in absolute panic and I spent hours on the telephone getting details for him. Never was I more relieved than when Jeff called me from Boston to say he was at the hospital and she had just woken from the theatre she'd received. She was in a stable condition herself but very traumatised about her baby.  
  
"Is the baby all right?" I asked feeling a million miles away as Grandmothers do when things like this happen.  
  
"I don't know yet." he replied and I could hear real worry in his voice. "I'm waiting for an update on his condition."  
  
Did he say "his condition?  
  
"Oh dear," I remember thinking; " He's given her another boy."   
  
Lucy wouldn't like that. I remembered her face when she'd held John.  
  
Jeff didn't need to worry about the fact that the tiny little scrap he had fathered was another boy. Lucy was terrified of losing him in those early days and she didn't care about his sex at all. She just wanted her baby to survive. Jeff said she wasn't holding up too well under the strain and I offered to fly out to be with them. Jeff shook his head. I think he had the thought in the back of his mind that there might be a funeral to go to and I'd need to come out for that instead.  
  
Those first days were awful for all of us as Jeff and Lucy waited to see if their little boy would make it and I sat by the telephone waiting for news. The Tracy family counted its' blessings when the respirator was finally taken off little Gordon after three weeks and he began to get stronger.  
  
I felt so useless in Kansas. I should have been in Boston with the family but Jeff insisted I didn't come over until Gordon was released from hospital. He wanted me to see Gordon as I had seen his other little baby boys; not fighting for his life in an incubator. It was over two months after his accidental arrival into the world that he was allowed to come home.   
  
The day finally came when I could meet my new little Grandson. I was most excited after all this time. However, as we sat in the car on the way home from the airport I couldn't help but sense that Jeff was keeping something from me.  
  
"He's a lovely little baby Mom," he said as all doting Fathers say.   
  
" I'm sure he is if you're his Daddy. Who's he like?" I asked as all doting Grandmother's ask.  
  
"Err... none of the others." he said carefully.  
  
"Jeff Tracy you can't tell me he's not at least like one of his brothers. You've got one of each colouring."   
  
"Yeah... well...I'll let you decide who he's like Mom."  
  
Hmmm. What was up?  
  
It wasn't long before we were at the house and my two eldest Grandsons both greeted me wanting to tell me about their new baby brother Gordie. I kissed Scott and gave him his birthday present, hardly believing he was now eight years old. I hugged Virgil and slipped a silver dollar into his hand since it wasn't his birthday. Jeff sent them off to play.  
  
Lucy met me at the front door. She looked tired and stressed. Obviously the strain of Gordon's premature birth had taken its toll on her. Beside her was my third grandson John. As I've told you before, wherever she was, he was.  
  
I hugged her and then little John and she showed me in while Jeff put my cases away.  
  
I couldn't wait to see Gordon and went up the hallway alone to their bedroom for a sneak look. The room was darkened and for a minute I couldn't focus properly. However I was sure I couldn't be seeing him right. Was that red hair on that little head? Red hair? Where in the blazes would a Tracy baby get red hair?  
  
"Well Mother. Who's he like then?" said Jeff from behind me with a huge smile on his face.   
  
"Jeff why didn't you tell me?" I scolded.  
  
"Because Mom, I wanted to see the look on your face when for once you have to honestly admit you don't know something. Now you can't tell me where the hair came from can you?"   
  
I gave him a light-hearted glare.  
  
"No I can't Jeff but I can say it sure is red!"  
  
Jeff laughed. I must admit I have never seen him look happier than he was that day looking at his little red-haired son. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was more than just a little charmed by him and secretly delighted in the accident that had created him.   
  
"You can pick him up if you like Mrs Tracy." Lucy said knowing how desperately I wanted to nurse him. "I have to wake him for his feed in a bit anyway."   
  
I nodded. Jeff had told me she still had to feed him every three hours. According to him, he wasn't feeding very well either and Lucy was becoming anxious.  
  
You didn't have to ask this Grandmother twice to nurse any of her grandsons. I carefully picked him up. He was so tiny and so fragile. Jeff informed me he was four times the size he was two months before. Despite the disturbance he continued to sleep in my arms.  
  
"Sweetie he's a lovely little boy." I said to Lucy as she busily prepared his special formula.  
  
She smiled and held out her arms to take him. I watched her trying to wake him up and when she finally succeeded, the loveliest pair of honey coloured eyes opened to look at her sleepily. She started to feed him. He kept falling asleep as he suckled.   
  
"Baby please wake up and feed for me." she said in a worried voice as she stroked him gently. "Daddy and I need you to grow strong like your big brothers."   
  
Its funny isn't it how the world turns a full circle? I remembered how unhappy she had been about the pregnancy. She hadn't wanted this baby. Now he was everything to her.  
  
The feeding took her an hour. I watched her change him and put him back into his crib.  
  
I saw the worry and anxiety on her face coupled with the exhaustion of mothering four young boys. Poor girl.   
  
However I look at my Grandson's voracious appetite now and laugh to myself as I remember the day he wouldn't feed for her. My laugh is tempered with sadness and loss.  
  
If only Lucy had actually lived to see him grow.   
  
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ACCIDENTALLY MOTHERLESS  
  
At thirteen months old, one would never have known Gordon Tracy had been fighting for his life just over a year before. He was a sturdy little toddler who walked unsteadily about the house getting into everything he could. He looked about for his Daddy and grinned whenever he saw him; he looked about for his brothers and squealed with delight whenever they gave him their attention. He looked about for his mommy.  
  
His mommy was gone.  
  
The saddest thing to accept was the fact that one day Gordon had a mother fussing over him and the next day he didn't. Perfectly healthy to dead is a cruel blow in the game of life, particularly when mothers and babies are involved.   
  
Gordon was too young to understand anything or feel the dreadful pain and loss his older brothers were experiencing. As a result, life continued as normal for him.  
  
I'm sure if he saw Lucy in front of him all hell would have broken loose. It had the night she died. The sad fact was; she wasn't in front of him any more now.   
  
Grandma fed him now. Daddy bathed him now. Scott played with him now. He didn't notice his mommy was gone.  
  
I made a mental note to myself to make sure I talked to Gordon about his mother, as he grew older. I wanted him to feel like he had known her. She had loved her little unplanned baby very much and I wanted him to know that.  
  
As he grew from babyhood, Gordon formed special and different bonds with each of his four brothers. He idolised Scott and naturally Scott who had taken on a parenting role loved him deeply in return. He had a close affinity with Virgil who shared his unique sense of fun. He was particularly close to John and I've always said it was because when he was a baby, John was always next to his Mother and consequently next to him.  
  
However the closest bond he shared was the one with his youngest brother, born only thirteen months after him.  
  
Those two played together, ate together, slept together and went everywhere together. They also got themselves into trouble together. The two of them separated only when it was time for Gordon to start his schooling.  
  
Gordon was an astute little boy. He didn't say much but I noticed over the weeks that followed his first day of school he spent a lot of time staring at people. I remembered Virgil and the staring at the same age and wondered if perhaps Gordon was going to be artistic too.   
  
However Gordon wasn't staring at people to try to remember them. He was trying to work out what a normal family consisted of after one of his classmates had asked him where his mommy was. He knew he had a Daddy and he was at work. He had a Grandma and she was at home looking after the house. He had four brothers who were like him. What did a mommy do?  
  
"I don't have one," he must have said because his friend had informed him "everyone has a mommy."  
  
It began to bother the little five year old that he didn't know where his mommy was.  
  
I have been fortunate or unfortunate as the case may be to "accidentally" overhear quite a few conversations between Gordon and his brothers. This one simply made my heart ache.  
  
Gordon had approached Alan first.  
  
"Alan do you know where our mommy is?" he asked.  
  
"No. Do we have one?" four-year-old Alan asked.  
  
He was every bit as uneducated as Gordon and I went to say something but decided to remain silent. Jeff was the one who needed to explain to these two little boys about their mother, not me.  
  
Gordon then asked John when he came in from school.  
  
"Johnny where's our mommy?"  
  
John at seven had gone all teary and refused to reply. He locked himself in his room and started crying on his bed.  
  
Gordon approached Virgil when he came inside to do his piano practice.  
  
"Virgie where's our mommy?"  
  
Virgil was now ten years old and quite well adjusted to the situation compared to John but he still did not want to talk about it.  
  
"Gordie we don't have a mommy any more."'  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Virgil started to get upset. He brushed past Gordon on his way to the piano.  
  
" 'Cos we don't that's why. Go ask Scott. He'll tell you."  
  
I watched Gordon sigh with frustration. All he wanted to know was whether he had a mommy and where she was so he could tell his friends when they asked him.  
  
He approached Scott.   
  
Scott was thirteen years old and to a five year old seemed like a God. Gordon stood in the doorway looking at him in awe for nearly ten minutes before Scott noticed him.  
  
"What's up with you squirt?" he asked in his half broken voice.  
  
"Scotty can I ask you something?"  
  
Scott sighed and looked annoyed.   
  
"Gordie I'm pretty busy with my Math homework. Can't it wait until later?"  
  
"It doesn't matter. I can ask Daddy. Is he here?"  
  
Scott looked back down at his Math book. "No Dad's at work. What do you want to ask him?"  
  
"Why I don't have a mommy."  
  
I held my breath. Poor Scott. I wondered what he was going to say. Scott closed the Math book and tried to explain without saying too much.   
  
"Gordie we all had a mommy once but she died when you were little." he said carefully.  
  
"What did she die for?" he asked innocently.  
  
"She just did Gordie." replied Scott tightly. "Now don't ask about her anymore all right?"  
  
"Does Daddy know why?"  
  
Scott stood up and said in a worried voice  
  
"Gordon you can't ask Dad about her OK? Dad doesn't like talking about it and he'll get mad at you. Promise me you won't ask him."  
  
Gordon nodded. Scott was his idol. If he said he wasn't to ask his Father, then he wouldn't.  
  
However his inquisitiveness grew to the point where he forgot his promise to Scott.   
  
It didn't help that Gordon, unlike his four brothers, was not the least bit in awe of his father at all. He never guarded his tongue where Jeff was concerned.  
  
"Daddy." he began suddenly over dinner one night. "Why did mommy die?"  
  
Jeff instantly looked annoyed. "Who's been speaking to you about that?" he snapped.  
  
Gordon's fearless little eyes looked into his Father's.  
  
"I'm the only one in my class at school who doesn't have a mommy. Scott said my mommy died. Is that right Daddy?" he replied.  
  
Jeff resumed eating after glaring at poor Scott. He brushed aside the question with,  
  
"Yes that's right. She did. Now eat your Dinner."  
  
Hardly the answer his inquisitive little mind was seeking but it was the best he would get out of his Father who simply refused to talk about it.  
  
Naturally the responsibility was going to end up with me. He'd tried his brothers; he'd tried his Father. I knew I was next. I readied myself for the question.  
  
It came one afternoon when I was tidying the bedrooms. I was in the room that he and Alan shared. Alan was asleep on his bed and little Gordon was quietly reading a book. I smiled at him as I moved the myriad of toy cars from the dresser to make room for the clothing I had folded earlier.  
  
"Grandma." he said closing the book. "Do you remember my mommy?"  
  
"Yes child I do." I said.  
  
"Why did she die?"  
  
"Err... "I stammered. "God called her to heaven."  
  
"I wish she was still here." he said as if yearning for something he didn't quite properly realise he'd lost.  
  
"I wish she was too sweetie." I said and meant it.  
  
"Do mommies love you like Grandmas do?"  
  
I tousled his red hair with my fingers. I truly doubted that Lucy could have loved this sweet little boy any more than I did. However, true to her memory I forced myself to say,  
  
"Mommies love you more than Grandmas do sweetie."  
  
"If mommies love you more why do they die and go away?"  
  
"Because God wants the special ones to be in heaven with him. God decided to take your mommy away sweetie."  
  
"Can God take Grandmas away too?"  
  
"No God can't. God wouldn't have the nerve to take Grandma away." I said in a determined voice. I dared God to take me on with that statement. I shouldn't have to be having this conversation with this little boy. God should have left his mother here on this earth.  
  
"Grandma. Was my mommy pretty like you?"  
  
Tears pricked my eyelids. This child didn't even know that. How could he? He'd only been a baby back then and his Daddy wouldn't talk to him about her.  
  
I took his little hand and led him down the hall. I opened the door to Jeff's bedroom and motioned him inside. He hesitated at the door. He was not allowed in his Father's room and he knew it.  
  
"I want to show you something." I said softly. "But you can't tell Daddy I showed you."  
  
His honey brown eyes lit up.  
  
"OK Grandma I won't tell."  
  
I went to Jeff's sideboard and picked up the photograph of Lucy. I showed it to her fourth son.  
  
"This is your mommy." I said holding out the frame. "You see? She was much prettier than Grandma."  
  
"She's beautiful" he breathed as if viewing a goddess. "She looks like Virgie." he added as he looked at the photo and then at me.  
  
"Yes Virgil and your mommy are very similar." I agreed.  
  
All of a sudden it struck me, as I looked at the photograph and then at Gordon, how similar he was to her too in his own way. He had her mischievous tilt of the chin, the same lively smile and the same determined jaw line.  
  
He looked at the photograph for quite some time. Finally his little red head nodded as if he had been having some sort of internal conversation.  
  
"Mommy is with God." he said aloud. "But she just said she wants me to go and be with her."  
  
"Child, don't be saying that now." I had said uneasily.   
  
Despite my anger at God, I still believed in his warnings.  
  
Warning Number One.  
  
I didn't think much of it after that, as he was only a little boy. However it had been the first of several warnings Gordon gave us. Warnings of what nearly came to pass.   
  
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ACCIDENTALLY FAMOUS IN THE WATER  
  
As Gordon moved closer to his tenth birthday his PE teacher accidentally stumbled on the fact that he was quite a talented swimmer. Gordon had been asked to substitute for a young boy in the swimming team who had fallen ill and Gordon had surprised them all by winning the race. As a result of it, I remember getting a note home asking if Gordon could stay back after class in the afternoons to train with the older children.  
  
We had always known that Gordon loved the water and was the strongest swimmer of all Jeff's boys so it came as no surprise that he could win a swimming race. Jeff frowned a bit but agreed that when we returned from vacation Gordon could train.  
  
Gordon loved the family vacations to the beach and he enjoyed that vacation very much. While his younger brother collected seashells, John read books on the sand and Virgil and Scott collected beach "babes," Gordon busied himself with swimming, snorkelling and surfing for best part of each day. He always took the evening walk along the beach with his Father and I, his red hair lifting in the night breeze as he looked out over the sea.  
  
"It's so big and mysterious Dad," he would say in awe. "And there's so much under it. There are treasures, marine life and sunken ships. I wish I knew how to dive. I want to learn how to do that one day. Can I Dad?"  
  
Jeff looked across at me on those walks and shrugged. I shrugged too. How could a little boy from Boston with a Father who pioneered in space fall in love with the sea as completely as he seemed to have?   
  
Still, none of the five Tracy sons were what I'd term ordinary and young Gordon was no exception.  
  
"When you're around sixteen I'll let you dive Gordon." his Father promised. "You'll be old enough to handle yourself then."  
  
We returned from vacation and true to his other promise Jeff permitted Gordon to train with the swimming team.   
  
However, the change in routine brought about by the training was inconvenient.  
  
Gordon could no longer get the school bus with his brothers and he required picking up on the other side of Boston. I offered to do it knowing how busy Jeff was with the business, despite it taking me several hours to get there and back. That little red-haired boy had broken several school records I'd been told and if he had a talent, it deserved to be nurtured. It also seemed to make him happy and I can tell you I'd rather have him happy in the water than happy playing his practical jokes. Those jokes are a whole story unto themselves.   
  
After a few more weeks of training Gordon broke the National swimming record for boys under sixteen years of age. He did it effortlessly and during a simple training session. I remember the youngster getting in the car and telling me about it in the same way he would tell me he had worn a hole in his pants.  
  
His famous words were always, "By the way Grandma…"   
  
That particular day he said, "Can we have steak for dinner tonight? I'm starving from training so hard next to the older guys. Boy I sure am hungry right now. By the way Grandma, the Coach said I broke a National record today."   
  
All of a sudden Gordon was a young celebrity and his Father was none too happy about all the attention, having been through the same ordeal himself with the moon landing. Gordon was asked to train in the mornings as well and travel to swim meets on weekends. All of it took time and to his Father whose time was extremely precious, it was a right royal pain. Despite how he felt about it Jeff suffered in silence. He drove Gordon in the morning; I drove him in the afternoon.  
  
Jeff kept telling me that Gordon's life needed a balance. I always laughed at this philosophy, particularly when it came from him...the workaholic with no balance in his life whatsoever. He wanted Gordon to be a normal child despite his talent. He put his foot down with all the training and cut it back to just afternoons. The swim meets were allowed less frequently. This ended up having the completely opposite effect to what he had intended.   
  
Gordon continued to break National records anyway and when he did swim in meets, everyone noticed him.  
  
Four years later at fourteen he won his first Adult Championship race. He was now being watched seriously. His future as an Olympic Champion was being touted. Jeff was becoming uneasy. He felt Gordon was far too young for things like that. I managed to convince him that what was destined to be should be.  
  
"His mother wouldn't have liked it one little bit." he grumbled.  
  
I looked at him and promptly reminded him that knowing Lucy, she would have probably been lobbying the Olympic Committee to select him.  
  
At sixteen he was selected for the Olympic team and won a gold medal for the United States of America. Despite his pride in his son, Jeff's foot now well and truly came down. His son needed more in his life than simply spending it in the pool swimming up and down. Gordon's swimming career ended and his Father now permitted him to learn to dive. Exploring under the sea changed Gordon's life.  
  
Naturally I've skipped around a bit because it's hard for me to tell you about Gordon's stages of life as they all centred around water. I feel better I've got the swimming achievements out of the way because I now want to tell you about the real larrikin that lies inside my grandson Gordon.   
  
Gordon Tracy the practical joker.  
  
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ACCIDENTAL HAPPENINGS  
  
As I've told you already, Gordon and that youngest brother of his were a pigeon pair but there is always one that is the ringleader when trouble is brewing. You guessed it; the ringleader in this case had red hair, honey brown eyes and a look of innocence that would stop anyone in their tracks and not suspect him.   
  
Except me. I knew what was going on.  
  
Gordon had a terrific sense of humour inherited from his mother which dare I say manifested itself in the most dire way possible with his never-ending array of practical jokes. No-one in the house was exempt from them and that included his Father, his brothers and of course, me.  
  
Now I've got a pretty good sense of fun for a Grandma but sometimes Gordon's practical jokes cut a little too close to my southern temper and made the palm of my hand itch.  
  
At seven he sat angelically opposite me in the kitchen when my chocolate cake didn't rise in the oven. "That's too bad Grandma." he said as I viewed the disaster it had become. Too bad all right. Who changed the labels on the flour containers?   
  
"It must have been an accident," he pleaded when his giggling with Alan gave him away.  
  
At ten he sat out in the garden with the whole family and quite a few of Jeff's business associates enjoying a business-related Christmas party. All of a sudden the whole party erupted into chaos as the sprinkling system inadvertently came on full blast. The food was saturated, the associates were saturated, and his Father's brand new suit was saturated. Several major contracts were saturated. Who put the timer on for the middle of the party?   
  
"It must have been an accident Dad" Gordon said trying not to laugh. I was sure I set it for tomorrow. Gee I'm sorry about the suit Sir."   
  
At thirteen the pranks became more elaborate. Clothing tampered with so that it gave way at the most inappropriate times. He must have figured that one move the wrong way would send a piece of elastic into a spiral. I still recall losing my petticoat standing in the line at the market. One minute I was decent bending over unpacking my purchases, the next my petticoat was down around my ankles with him howling with laughter behind me . A brand new petticoat! Closer observation showed it had been tampered with.   
  
"I'm innocent Grandma" he said looking at me with those big honey brown eyes of his.  
  
" You should take that petticoat back to the store and ask for a refund. I would!"  
  
Sure I should young man! So why are you still smirking like that when you think I'm not watching you?  
  
No one escaped Gordon.   
  
Scott enjoyed entertaining his girl friend after school but ended up serving her crackers and cat-food instead of the fresh salmon topping I'd prepared. The worst part was they both enjoyed it. Scott later got the message when he found the empty tin on his bed with a typed note, "Hope you and Adelaide enjoyed it". Scott didn't eat for days. Needless to say Gordon avoided him for the same length of time.  
  
Virgil's musical pieces, so carefully planned and written to the last semi-brieve didn't seem to play quite right when he sat at the piano to play them. Virgil thought he was losing it until he suspected the music had been altered and not by his own hand.  
  
"I dunno anything about music." Gordon pleaded. "You must have done it yourself." As Virgil walked away starting to believe it was his own fault, the honey brown eyes would gleam and he would comment.  
  
"By the way Virg, that music really sounds terrible. You're losing your touch man."   
  
John's astronomy notes for a speech he had to give in Junior High were accidentally replaced with a picture of a star and the nursery rhyme of the same name. John discovered the mix-up only as he opened the notes to speak in front of the whole student body. Gordon was in the audience at the time and rolled about with hilarity at John's discomfort and extreme embarrassment. His excuse?  
  
"I must have accidentally put my art assignment in there Johnny! Sorry. Guess your astronomy notes won't get me an A in art huh?"  
  
He even tried it on his youngest brother who was supposed to be his ally. That one was less than two years ago. Alan had been unpacking the purchases from a shopping trip he and Tin-Tin had been on together during their college vacation. It had been about the time we all suspected something was going on between them. A box of condoms fell out of the bag in front of his Father.  
  
I don't know who went redder, Alan, Tin-Tin, his Father or me.   
  
"They're not mine Dad. Honest Sir, I didn't buy them. I didn't. Please believe me." Alan kept saying to his Father and Tin-Tin over and over again.   
  
Where was Gordon? Innocently sitting up the other end of the room, his insides shaking with laughter at his brother's embarrassment.   
  
Don't you worry Gordon Tracy. I was on to you, and by the look your brother gave you that day, so was he!   
  
Despite all the "misery" his jokes caused us, we loved our practical joker with all our hearts. Jeff had gotten himself to the stage where he merely shook his head in despair at news of yet another suspension from school for his pranks.If Gordon wasn't playing a prank he was copping a caning for his last one and Jeff's bedroom became the revolving door for that red-haired young man.   
  
But Jeff frightened me one night by telling me a comment Gordon made to him when he was in his room receiving a lecture on his antics.  
  
"Mother, it was eerie. I said to him if he kept clowning around he wouldn't make it to Adulthood. He looked at his Mother's picture and then he said " that's what she says too."  
  
Warning Number Two.  
  
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ACCIDENTALLY EXPERIENCED  
  
Now I told you I've heard a few conversations between my grandsons over time but nothing prepared me for the one I heard between my Grandson Gordon and my Grandson Alan the day after the USA Swimming Championship.  
  
  
  
Jeff had accompanied Gordon to and from the Championship where I soon discovered he had gotten more than a gold medal for his efforts there.   
  
After telling me about Gordon's easy win and now sure selection in the National Team, Jeff had gone to wash up for supper. While he was busy doing that I decided to take a walk down the back garden to pull a little bit of mint for the sauce I was making. As I wandered about with the mint in my hand, I heard Alan's newly deepened voice exclaim.  
  
"You're kidding me! Tell me everything Gordo!"  
  
Tell him what I wondered? It must be good whatever it was by the enthusiasm in Alan's voice. And it must be either illegal, immoral or something the two of them didn't want anyone to hear as they were sat behind the retaining wall in the corner of the garden as far away from the house as they could get. So naturally I listened to the story. It appeared Grandson Number four at sixteen years of age was now a man.  
  
"You did it in the women's shower?" I heard Alan exclaim like Gordon was some sort of National lovemaking hero instead of a National Swimming Champion.  
  
"Yep. It was a dare to start with. Mark, you know the captain of the team, he dared me to go in there to catch a look at the talent. You ought to know no one dares me to do anything Alan so I went inside. The eight free stylers had just gone in."  
  
"Uh huh!' enthused Alan. "What were they like?"  
  
"Oh yeah nice to look at Al. Butt naked as the day they were born."   
  
"Well?" Alan asked impatiently. "Details?"  
  
"I told you. Butt naked."  
  
"Not the back view Gordo." Alan sighed. "You know what I mean."  
  
"Front naked." Gordon joked sensing Alan's urgency for the information. "And very easy on my eyes."  
  
"So who'd you do it with?" Alan asked. "And don't tell me the whole eight of 'em."  
  
"I wish!" Gordon replied. "Nope I'm not telling you Alan. You're too young."  
  
"Why? You have to tell me. I'm your brother and I'm nearly as old as you." whined Alan in that annoying tone he used when he wanted his own way.  
  
Now there's an interpretation of brotherly love for you I thought to myself. However I was too shocked to be amused at that point in time.  
  
"All right I can tell you about it but I'm not telling you who with. Deal?"  
  
"Deal!"  
  
Well all the sordid details were revealed to this stunned pair of ears from when she'd seen him there, invited him to remove his racers, invited him to shower with her, and quite frankly invited him in. The last bit left me wishing I hadn't listened at all.  
  
"She was really twenty-one Gordo? Wow! Way to go." Alan enthused. "That's worth three our age."  
  
"Oh yeah Alan." he had sighed. "I'm tellin' ya. We've got a lot to look forward to man."   
  
Twenty-one and seducing a poor innocent young sixteen year old like my Grandson Gordon? Disgraceful!   
  
What I wanted to know was where Jeff was when all this was going on? I would have thought by the time the fourth one had reached sixteen he'd anticipate what he was going to get up to and not leave him alone for a second.  
  
However as we ate our supper, Jeff appeared quite unaware of his son's experience.  
  
I, on the other hand, banged my cutlery around a little louder than usual and snapped when Jeff pointed out that I had forgotten to make the mint sauce for him.  
  
"Didn't you go have time to down the back Mother?" he asked looking surprised at my unexpected outburst.   
  
"I went down the back all right." I said fixing my eyes on that red-haired rascal opposite me. "I got waylaid in the garden. It's not as if I'm twenty-one any more Jeff." I said deliberately with particular emphasis on the "twenty-one".  
  
Gordon's face gave me the acknowledgement I expected.   
  
I knew he knew I knew.  
  
Jeff merely looked confused. "What Mom?"  
  
Poor Jeff. If only he really knew what those boys of his got up to sometimes.  
  
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ACCIDENTALLY KILLED  
  
I hate having to tell sad tales and this next one is right up there with them.   
  
I often blame myself in a way for not supporting Jeff back then in this one. If I had I don't think our young redhead would have followed the course he did. He certainly wouldn't have suffered the injuries he did. He wouldn't have ruined his happiness as he did. He wouldn't have lost his little girl as he did.  
  
As you know, our young Gordon loved the water and loved the sea. He was now a qualified Diver and could drive a speedboat better than his Father and all of his brothers put together. He could swim like a fish, water-ski like a Champion, and identify any form of marine life into the bargain.  
  
Fresh out of High School our young Gordon wanted to join the World Aquanaut Security Patrol. He'd met up with a pretty young girl in High School who planned to follow the same career path and he was keen to enlist.   
  
Actually I think he wanted to "enlist" with her myself and by the look of things between them he already had! I didn't say anything. He was almost eighteen. She was nineteen and a half. Old enough for Grandmas to stay silent on what should and shouldn't be going on in a young man's life.  
  
He was still a rascal; still a prankster; but Gordon Tracy was starting to grow up and had some very definite ideas on where he wanted his life to take him. Funny, I once had a young son under my own roof that was like that although he seemed to forget the fact sometimes when he dealt with his sons.  
  
I knew Jeff wasn't too pleased about his son wanting to join "the others"; a term he used unflatteringly for other areas of the services, particularly when he had been encouraging Gordon to join the Air Force. After all Scott was excelling in Nevada, Virgil was now piloting commercial craft and John was turning heads in NASA. It stood to reason that Gordon would follow his brothers.  
  
When Jeff announced to him that he had secured a place for him in his old Air Force Academy, Gordon had looked at his Father like he had two heads. What would he join the Air Force for? His whole life had revolved around water. The woman he was infatuated with had already signed up with WASP. He had no intention of being a pilot.  
  
I remember that altercation with his Father very clearly. It was not one of the better moments this Father and son shared but you have to understand two things. Gordon Tracy had never been afraid of his Father even as a little boy and he had the same determined jaw line and stubbornness as his Mother.  
  
It was a recipe for a showdown.  
  
"I don't want to go t College and I sure don't want to fly planes Dad. I only want to enlist in WASP," he said simply but distinctly. "WASP is my calling and that's where I want to be."  
  
"I can't say I remember anyone in WASP ever making headlines for anything." Jeff said sarcastically. "And as for the calling, I think it's the skirt that's calling you, not the career."   
  
"Yeah well if you'd stayed in the Air Force you probably would never had made the headlines either Dad. It's the same thing." Gordon said with a directness that reminded me of the Father he was confronting.  
  
"And as for Jezz... that's her name Dad not "the skirt"...she's got nothing to do with this." he warned.  
  
"Gordon, I didn't stay in the Air Force did I? Jeff challenged choosing to ignore the comment about young Jezz. "I got myself promoted and got myself known by having skills. Learning skills at the Academy. Skills that got me into NASA."  
  
"I'll develop skills Dad. Skills they'll need in the WASP outfit. I'll get myself promoted Dad. You'll see."  
  
"I walked on the moon because of the Air Force Gordon. You'd be better served listening to me. "  
  
Gordon walked out on his Father after stunning him into silence with,  
  
"You might have walked on the moon Dad but you're still up there if you think I want to."   
  
Oh dear. It had to be the red hair! His other brothers would never have dared speak to their Father like that, especially fresh out of High School.   
  
Gordon went off defiantly to be with his little girl in WASP and unfortunately for Jeff but fortunately for Gordon, he was exactly the type of recruit the Patrol had been waiting for.  
  
Within eighteen he had been fast-tracked through the ranks to Lieutenant. The young man who had no fear, could swim like a fish, dive, drive a speedboat, ski and snorkel was proving to be every bit of the achiever his Father had been. He loved it. He excelled in it. Sorry Jeff, I had to be proud of him and deep down I'm sure you were too.  
  
His Father reluctantly acknowledged he seemed to be making his way in the world and their rift healed to now only be "an absence of presence."   
  
Gordon rarely visited the island after their argument even though he rang his Father regularly. He knew his Father disapproved of WASP and didn't like to "rock the boat." by visiting too often.  
  
I hated not seeing him...his cheeky young face...his honey brown eyes... his signature red hair.  
  
However as only a Grandmother can be, I was particularly interested in how his life outside WASP was progressing. I knew he had entered WASP because of the little girl and I also knew the two of them were more than just close.  
  
According to my youngest grandson I was right.  
  
"Jezz is gorgeous Grandma." Alan enthused as we talked. "She's got blonde hair and green eyes. She's super smart and really pretty and I can tell you Gordon thinks she's it. He loves her Grandma almost as much as I love..."  
  
Oh yes I thought interested. What was he going to say then? However his words had me interested in what appeared to be a close relationship between Gordon and this young lady.  
  
"Really Alan?" I asked. "Are they really that close?"  
  
"He's been with her exclusively for three years Grandma. He said to me "She's the one."  
  
I thought to myself, reminiscing about another young man who lived under my roof who once said, "Mom she's the one." and again seemed to have conveniently forgotten about it.  
  
I only met Jezz once face to face. She was a sweet, fun-loving little girl with the same adventurous and cheeky nature as Gordon. What a pair these two made with their senses of humour. I even started to think of the Tracy babies these two would produce. God help my petticoat then! I'd have to die before the great-grandchildren killed me with their antics!  
  
The day we met, I spoke with Jezz about her life in WASP. She admitted she had not progressed in WASP as fast as my Grandson had but she told me she didn't mind being "under him."   
  
The two of them gave each other a naughty glance much like another glance I once saw my son give Lucy Evans in the house in Boston the night I caught them together when Gordon was small. Whilst everything else might be going on me, my recognition of innuendo wasn't.  
  
"I like you being under me too baby." he had said mischievously right in front of his dear old Grandma.   
  
"Gordon Tracy I heard that!" I scolded.   
  
"Grandma! You should be ashamed of yourself! I was talking about Jezz being under my command in the squadron. I'm still an innocent little boy!"  
  
Then he turned and kissed her neck and playfully unzipped her dress.   
  
What did you say to me Gordon Tracy? Innocent? I believe I heard you say the following words to your youngest brother a few years back.  
  
"Oh yeah. We've got a lot to look forward to man."   
  
Yes, that young man did have a lot to look forward to but nothing chilled my soul more than hearing that little girl's words the week before the accident as the two of them joked about in the kitchen of our island home.   
  
"The day you ever think I'm under anything but your command Gordon Tracy, you'll be dead."  
  
Warning Number 3. The direst warning of all.  
  
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Twenty-one years ago I had spoken to my son on the telephone. It had been Valentine's Day. He had flown faster than he ever had before to the hospital in Boston. His wife had just given birth to their fourth son. The baby was two months early. I had felt a million miles away as Grandmas do when this sort of thing happens. I asked in fear how the baby was. He had said,  
  
"I don't know yet." and I could hear real worry in his voice. "I'm waiting for an update on his condition."  
  
Twenty-one years on, I spoke with my son on the telephone. It wasn't Valentine's Day but he had flown faster than he ever had before to the military hospital on the other side of America. His fourth son had been involved in a hydrofoil accident. He had been driving the hydrofoil. People had been killed. His Commander. Two others. Gordon was in theatre, his injuries horrific. Two others were critical and not expected to survive. I had felt a million miles away as Grandmas do when this sort of thing happens. I asked in fear how my grandson was. He had said.  
  
"I don't know yet." I could hear more than just real worry in his voice. "I'm waiting for an update on his condition."  
  
Twenty-one years ago Jeff and Lucy waited to see if their little boy would make it and I sat by the telephone waiting for news. They waited over a week.  
  
Twenty-one years on Jeff sat alone and waited to see if his little boy would make it and I sat by the telephone waiting for news. He had waited nearly a week and had not left his son's side.  
  
Twenty-one years ago I had felt so useless in Kansas. I should have been in Boston with the family but Jeff insisted I didn't come over until Gordon was released from hospital. He wanted me to see Gordon as I had seen his other little baby boys; not fighting for his life in an incubator.   
  
Twenty-one years on I had felt so useless on Tracy Island. I should have been in that military hospital with the family but Jeff insisted I didn't come over. He didn't want me to see Gordon fighting for his life on a respirator.  
  
Twenty-one years ago I think he had the thought in the back of his mind that there might be a funeral to go to and I'd need to come out for that instead.   
  
Twenty-one years on I think he had the thought in the back of his mind that there would be a funeral to go to. His son's.  
  
Finally the news.   
  
Twenty-one years ago Gordon Tracy had come home from the hospital to join his brothers after a long two-month battle to survive.  
  
Twenty-one years on the Doctors gently told Jeff to gather his other sons by his side. Despite hours of theatre and days of intensive care, the damage appeared too great.   
  
Gordon Cooper Tracy wasn't going to survive.   
  
I'm a tough old stick from the south and I can take a lot of pain in my heart and suffering in my soul but when Jeff contacted me to tell me he needed me to be ready when the private jet arrived, I broke down. I broke down like a child.   
  
This couldn't be happening, not again. God couldn't do this to Jeff again.   
  
He had taken away that beautiful little girl of Jeff's and now he wanted to take his son too. The red-haired son. The one with Lucy's soul and sense of fun. The one who didn't fear his Father and wanted to be different.  
  
Kyrano tried to comfort me as I waited for the plane but I knew.  
  
God had warned me.   
  
Warned me three times that Gordon would go to his mother.  
  
I knew Gordon Tracy was about to die.  
  
I remember getting to the hospital trying to hold myself together. I had to for Jeff's sake. I was taken to the intensive care unit where he was. I was shown inside.   
  
Before me was my family. My son. My grandsons. I knew she was here too. She would be here in this room too; ready to take her son.  
  
Jeff sobbed with heartbreak, his body hunched in the same defeated way when he had lost Lucy. He said over and over again. "Please don't take him. Not my son. I'll give up everything. All of it. Just let me keep my son."   
  
Scott, straight from Nevada, still in his Air Force uniform stood pale and devastated, silent tears running down his cheeks. He rested his hand on his Father's shoulder but that hand shook with fear.  
  
Virgil sat looking at the bed where Gordon lay, crying as if his heart would break. He had flown himself from Denver to be by his brother's side..  
  
John, hurriedly flown from NASA stood by his Father. Never close to his father but close now. Close as he prepared himself to lose the brother he had sat with for months so they could share their mother. John looked at me and broke down. Broke down utterly.  
  
Alan, the worst sight of all, sobbing on the bed where his brother lay. Newly arrived from College in Colorado, blinded by tears, shaking with emotion, never experiencing the pain of loss before and about to lose his favourite brother.  
  
His Father and brothers had experienced the pain. I had experienced the pain.   
  
My youngest grandson hadn't and in his grief said what all of us were thinking.  
  
"There can't be a God if this is what he does to our family."  
  
Jeff saw me. He reached out his hand blindly to me. I took it and squeezed it as hard as I could.   
  
"Mom. It's happening again. What have I done to anyone for this to happen? Gordon can't die. He's my son. Mom!"  
  
He burst into tears and sobbed in my arms like a baby. Scott swallowed and started crying too.   
  
The Doctor came in to speak with us. We were told Gordon's head injuries had left him in the coma and it was now likely he wasn't going to come out of it. His spine and ribs were shattered and had been repaired as best they could although he probably wouldn't walk again. Both of his legs were broken and they had done the best they could with them for the time being. They would be re-setting them if he lived but that was unlikely. .  
  
"I don't care if he never walks again, I just want him to survive." his Father wept.  
  
The Doctor looked at Jeff with sympathy and then told us that Gordon was now the only survivor of the crash. Everyone else had died.  
  
I followed the Doctor quietly out of the room and asked if a little girl had been on the boat. A little girl named Jezz. He nodded grimly.  
  
"Miss Jezzica Parker passed away some hours ago ma'am. Her body has been released to her family."   
  
The final blow. He'd lost his little girl.  
  
I knew right there and then I would never see his honey brown eyes open again to look at Grandma, never see the cheeky smile again he gave to Grandma, never be on the receiving end of a prank he played again on Grandma. His little Jezz had gone to be with his mother. He had told me his mother wanted him to go to heaven. I knew if Gordon could now choose, he would go to be with the girl he loved and the mother who had been calling him home.   
  
Silent tears rolled down my face.  
  
God had warned me. Three times. I blamed God for everything. I had dared God to cross me. Now God was. For the first time in twenty-five years I said a prayer to God.   
  
"Please don't take my Grandson away. If you are really up there please don't take my Grandson."  
  
As I prayed silently in the corridor, the Doctors rushed into the room. Gordon's heart monitor had stopped. His Father was pushed aside as he was pushed aside when he lost his wife. His brothers stood horrified in the corner. Gordon stopped breathing. His chest stopped moving. He was now clinically dead.   
  
Alan broke down. Scott left the room devastated. John and Virgil turned away and wept in each other's arms.  
  
Jeff collapsed with grief.  
  
I kept right on praying trying to change the course of this dreadful moment. The Doctor's hadn't given up on him so I wasn't going to stop praying.  
  
"Don't take my Grandson away. Don't take my Grandson away."   
  
God didn't take him.   
  
The Doctors stabilised him and got his heart started again. His brothers and I breathed a sigh of relief. His Father looked up to heaven.  
  
"Lucy please. Please let him stay with me."  
  
The power of prayer.   
  
The power of belief.  
  
I was a converted old lady after that day and I swore I'd read my bible every day for the rest of my life now. And do you know what? I actually do and when I do I thank God for my Grandson's life.  
  
God had listened. God had let him stay with his Father.  
  
It was two months before Gordon came out of the coma and started his long rehabilitation.  
  
He couldn't remember the accident, only the speed of the boat and the love of the water he was feeling at the time. He asked about the others on the boat. His Father gently told him that they had died. He looked at me with his honey brown eyes and whispered.  
  
"Jezz too?"  
  
I nodded silently and watched the tears fall unchecked from the sides of his devastated eyes.  
  
"I loved her Grandma." he cried. "I wanted to marry her."  
  
I held his hand trying to comfort him as I whispered.  
  
"I know sweetie. I know."   
  
He told me many months later of his experience with his Mother when he had lain clinically dead. He told me he had gone into her arms but she had looked at him disappointed. She had told him he wasn't ready to be with her yet not like Jezz was. His father and the world still needed him for something. She had told him to tell his Father she loved him and his brothers that she missed them. She told him she would continue to watch over him until it was his time. Then he could come back. Back to be with Jezz.  
  
To this day every time Gordon Tracy looks at that photograph of his Mother or goes out on a dangerous rescue, I worry if that time might have come.  
  
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ACCIDENTALLY THE AQUANAUT  
  
After the accident, Gordon took a long time to recover. He was discharged from WASP a broken young man. Broken in body, broken in spirit, broken in heart.  
  
He underwent extensive therapy and learned to deal with his pain with the help of his brothers. Scott spoke to him about the accident, assuring him it wasn't his fault even though many of the Authorities still speculated he had been speeding at the time. Virgil and John joked about with him during their daily telephone calls. I spoke to him about little Jezz and went with him to her grave. I held him as he cried.  
  
His brother Alan never left his side. He went to every therapy session he could and anxiously sat through it. He tried to laugh and joke with the brother he held so dear and when that brother didn't respond because of his depression, Alan refused to give up.  
  
Alan knew how much Gordon had loved Jezz. He shouldered the tears I couldn't. The two of them grew even closer together.  
  
His Father anxiously supervised his recovery. He sat beside his bed at the expense of his business, and at the expense of the rescue organisation he was creating. He made sure Gordon took his medication and did his exercises. I often found Jeff asleep in the chair next to Gordon's bed in the evenings and sometimes in his hand he would be holding a small picture of Lucy holding Gordon as a baby only two months before she died. A picture none of us had ever seen and never would if Jeff was given the chance. The picture was one that never ceased to give him pain. His cheeky red haired baby son and his beautiful English wife, seven months pregnant again with his brother... both of them smiling...both of them with so much to live for. Her life.... unbeknown to them all about to end... and leave her little red head baby alone.  
  
As I read my bible, Jeff would look at the picture and thank Lucy for giving Gordon back to him.   
  
Eventually Gordon walked properly again although the pain he felt was debilitating.  
  
Eventually Gordon started trying to swim again. He looked at his Olympic gold medal and made himself train although the pain he felt often brought him to tears..  
  
Eventually Gordon started diving again although the pain he felt at pressure was unbearable.  
  
Eventually Gordon started laughing and joking again although the pain he felt in his heart was beyond unbearable. He hid behind a jovial mask that fooled no-one. Least of all his brother Alan and myself.  
  
Eventually the Doctors said he had recovered but Gordon didn't tell the Doctor everything. The pain he felt was still enormous. Manageable but enormous.   
  
When International Rescue was born, his Father asked to speak to him.  
  
He offered him the job as his Aquanaut.  
  
"I'm broken down Dad." he said. "You're taking a chance with me."  
  
"I've been taking chances with you my whole life." his Father said honestly. "You've never let this family down. You'll get stronger. You have a Tracy heart son. The job's yours."   
  
His face filled with gratitude as he accepted.  
  
Now our little premature baby, our Olympic Champion embarks on rescue missions under the sea in Thunderbird Four. He's saved many lives in the water. He can swim like a fish again; he can dive again; he can snorkel and water-ski. There's only one difference now.  
  
It still hurts sometimes.  
  
He's learned to cope with it and disguises it.  
  
His Father has still never asked him to fly despite the need in International Rescue.  
  
I think Jeff has finally accepted that Gordon never ever wanted to fly.   
  
He only ever wanted to be in the water and be with his little girl.  
  
One day you will be back with her my honey-eyed grandson but not too soon.  
  
I want you here with me.  
  
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Author's Note...What a wonderful character.  
  
NEXT CHAPTER - THE WILD-CHILD  
  
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	9. CHAPTER 6 ALAN THE WILD CHILD

Author's Note - Thank you for your on-going reviews of this story.Thanks to my friend Water Phoenix for the research carried out. I hope you enjoy the story of the youngest Tracy son, the one you dislike the most! mcj  
  
CHAPTER SIX - ALAN - THE WILD CHILD  
  
Well there they go off into space in that magnificent red rocket ship that is known as Thunderbird Three. Two hundred and eight seven feet of pure power and speed has commenced its blast off from earth and the Astronaut who sits in control has now radioed to Scott that lift off is imminent. Scott Tracy sits at his Father's desk. The Apprentice is now totally in charge of International Rescue.  
  
I stand at the doorway and watch as the sleek craft powers out of its hangar deep within the earth on its way to Thunderbird Five. Today is a special day. Not only is it my birthday but for the first time since he tested the ship at the beginning, my son Jeff is manning the controls of this extraordinary Thunderbird. His son John and his Chief Engineer Brains accompany him.  
  
Normally John would be guiding the craft on its journey into space but today he has been asked by his Father to stand down to be the co-pilot.  
  
Jeff Tracy has given in to his yearning to fly in space again.  
  
John Tracy will learn a lot as he watches his Father at the controls. His Father was the best pilot in the business; exceptional and accurate with nerves of steel. John Tracy also has those skills but they are skills that he has learned. Only his Father and his eldest brother have been blessed with them naturally.  
  
When Thunderbird Three returns, another son will be seated beside Jeff acting as his co-pilot. The skills of this son have also been learned and none of them without a major argument. This son could certainly learn more than a thing or two but he doesn't listen to his Father long enough to learn anything!  
  
That other son is my grandson Alan. He is his Father's wild child and you will soon understand why.  
  
I have no doubt he will leave Thunderbird Five arguing with his Father about wanting to pilot Thunderbird Three himself. He will point out quicker and what he believes are better ways to do everything his Father does. He will complain about being cooped up in the satellite for the past two weeks. He will whine that the journey is taking too long at the current speed and will insist his Father go faster. He will want to use the radio to check out the latest baseball scores. He will generally drive everyone on that craft to absolute distraction for the whole journey back to base.  
  
When Thunderbird Three finally lands he will stride out of the rocket ship in a huff as he always does and reluctantly travel up to the villa on the same couch as his Father and his brother. He will still be arguing the point. Once he has returned from the hangar, he will fix his baby blue eyes straight ahead and stride with his usual arrogance into the lounge room.  
  
Satisfied he has made his entrance, his will look at me and his whole face will change. The Tracy smile will light up and accentuate those blonde good looks and he will come to kiss his Grandma. It will be a kiss that looks brash to his Father but it doesn't fool me. It is a kiss of quiet love well hidden behind a brazen exterior.  
  
I know Alan Tracy loves his Grandma and I certainly love that young man. He is the special Grandson I have raised from the beginning.   
  
He will tell me he missed me, then pick me up and whirl me around until I ask him to stop. He will pull my glasses from my face and hold them out of my reach. His Father will rebuke him and tell him to grow up and leave his poor ageing Grandma alone. He will snap at his Father and then start arguing again about not being able to pilot Thunderbird Three.   
  
His Father will roll his eyes and turn his back on him, giving up the argument. His brothers will raise their eyebrows at his never-ending aggravation of their Father and wait for the certain altercation that is to follow.   
  
Everyone on Tracy Island has now heard the commotion and realizes what has happened.  
  
Jeff Tracy's youngest son, the wild child, is home. The tornado that hit the Tracy family twenty-one years ago who has continued to create havoc and mayhem ever since the day he was found to be on the way.  
  
After he's finished arguing with his Father, his blue eyes will then scan the room looking for something else.  
  
Not finding what he is looking for, he will tell us he is going into the kitchen to find something to eat because the food was so bad in the satellite. He says he knows he will find something decent in the kitchen at least. The trouble is he thinks we all think he's talking about food. But we all know what he hopes to find in the kitchen or should we say whom?  
  
Miss Tin-Tin Kyrano; his young lady.   
  
As I watch Thunderbird Three disappear through the atmosphere and out of my view, I contemplate the scene I have just played out in my mind knowing its pretty well close to the mark. When he walks in here tonight to surprise me he'll be arguing, nothing surer. He'll kiss me and twirl me around, nothing surer. He'll look for the little Kyrano girl, nothing surer.   
  
And then he'll disappear with her. Let me tell you right now, there isn't anything surer than that!  
  
But I have a sneaking suspicion my young Grandson is completely unaware that his grandmother knows all about what's going on between the two of them and she is keeping an eye on them.  
  
I think I need to keep more than a close eye on them at the moment.  
  
The little Kyrano girl has been looking a bit anxious lately.  
  
I may be wrong but I think that she has missed a month since he left to go to Thunderbird Five. They haven't been intimate for very long and they think no-one knows that they have but they have been together long enough for something to have happened.  
  
As you can see, the name wild-child speaks for itself.  
  
My youngest grandson is a Tracy son like his brothers; he is brave like his brothers, talented like his brothers. However when it comes down to being anything else like his brothers you can forget the comparison right now.   
  
We don't know where in the heck we got him from. He drives this Father around the bend!  
  
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THE WILD FATHER  
  
Alan Shepherd Tracy caused more than just a little upset in the Tracy family when he was found to be on the way. He antagonized his Father right from the very beginning of his life.  
  
Strangely enough, his story originally began back when I was visiting his two-month-old brother Gordon who had finally come home from hospital after his premature birth. Jeff was driving me to the house talking of his new little son when he suddenly remembered Lucy had given him an errand to run at the drug store.  
  
"Wait here Mom." he said as he got out of the car, "It'll only take me a minute."  
  
Sure enough within five minutes he handed me the packages and we were on our way.  
  
"Needing things for the baby?" I asked in conversation.  
  
"Yeah Lucy asked me to get a couple of tins of formula and some diapers while I was out. We sure go through them. I think I should have gone into the diaper business instead of aircraft parts."   
  
I nodded and we both laughed.  
  
"Still you won't have to worry any more." I said directly. "You did take my advice now didn't you Jeff?"  
  
He looked at me with guilt.  
  
"I'll get around to it Mom. I've just been really busy with the business and driving to and from the hospital to see the baby over the last eight weeks. I simply don't have the time to take a few days off to get it done."   
  
I shook my head. He really did need to have himself seen to. Whatever they'd been using last time hadn't worked too well. If it had I wouldn't be on my way to see my fourth grandson!  
  
  
  
I still remembered Grant's words about Jeff having more children than he planned if he didn't learn to control himself and let's face facts. He now had four instead of the planned three. What was to stop five or even six? Grant must have been turning in his grave at the thought of it.   
  
"It's OK Mom, you don't have to worry." he assured me confidently. "Lucy's taking care of things at the moment. In fact she made me drive her straight from the maternity hospital to the drug store seven weeks ago to fill her prescription. I couldn't believe she took the first pill in the car-park right there in front of me. I think she was trying to tell me something!"  
  
"Jeff!" I berated him. "That was too early for you to ask that poor little girl to worry about such things. What were you thinking?"  
  
He smiled mischievously. Lucy's sense of fun had rubbed off on him over the years despite his reserved nature.  
  
"Thinking? Gee Mom what's the problem? I let her unpack her bags first!" he joked.  
  
"Jeff Tracy you should be ashamed of yourself!" I scolded and gave him a light hearted slap.   
  
"Oh lighten up Mom! You know what's she's like with things like this. Remember when I wanted to have Virgil? I took me over eighteen months to talk her into going off those pills. I can tell you if she doesn't want any more babies, we won't be having them. I've learned that over the years with her if nothing else."  
  
Jeff shouldn't have felt so reassured. I noticed where Lucy kept those pills of hers in the bathroom and many a night went by that I noticed she had been too tired to remember to take them.  
  
Add my son to that mistake and you had a recipe for disaster.  
  
Naturally the disaster came and it couldn't have come at a worse time for either of them.  
  
By the time Lucy Tracy started to feel sick in the mornings again and began to worry why her cycles had not resumed after having her fourth son, it was too late. A fifth son was growing within her and she had to explain herself to Jeff.   
  
Jeff, who had just mortgaged three quarters of his whole company to invest in Asia and would lose everything if he didn't proceed,. Explain that instead of being in Asia, she needed him to be in Boston to help her cope with yet another Tracy baby due only thirteen months after the last one. Explain that she had been too tired with the children and had forgotten to "take care of things" as she promised she would.  
  
Well the argument happened and he pushed her to have a termination. Stubborn as ever, she refused and things between them suddenly went to bad and then plummeted to worse. He blamed her for her carelessness. She blamed him for her tiredness which had caused the mistake.   
  
Devastated by the new pregnancy and his reaction to it, she threatened to leave him and take his sons with her. He worried himself sick then, knowing his headstrong young wife would do just that if he pushed her too far. He loved his little family too much to lose it and his business still took second place to the wife he adored and his four little boys. He forced himself to be happy about the new baby and agreed to suspend his operations temporarily. It broke the back of the Company and the future of the Tracy family lay in limbo as the result of it.  
  
The wild child had made his presence felt already.  
  
Jeff was furious with himself for failing to heed my well-intentioned advice.  
  
Two weeks after he stormed out of the house in fury at the news, he was sat in the Doctor's Office. He forced himself to make the time. He wanted to be absolutely sure there wasn't ever going to be a sixth Tracy baby.   
  
However Jeff, you left it too late. You had already made your wild child!  
  
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WILD ARRIVAL  
  
The arrival of my fifth Grandson was the most shattering day of Jeff's life as he lost the beloved mother of his children to a badly handled delivery and a caesarean section that went dreadfully wrong right in front of his eyes.   
  
Alan had proven to be a wild child in the womb, turning himself inside out and back to front until he managed to wrap his cord good and proper around his neck. Unbeknown to the midwife during his delivery he was slowly suffocating inside Lucy as she laboured to give birth to him. By the time the midwife realized something was wrong there was little time to carefully handle the operation. The little baby needed to be delivered fast.  
  
According to his Father, fast was not the word to describe the speed in which his son was brought into the world. Two minutes from the first incision, he was dragged from inside his exhausted mother in an asphyxiated state while Jeff sat terrified for them both in the corner of the room. His little son went to intensive care as the doctor feared permanent damage to his brain through lack of oxygen. His beloved wife went to intensive care with irreparable damage to her body.   
  
Alan Shepherd Tracy nearly lost his life that day. Sadly for us all, his mother lost hers.  
  
Lucy Tracy never got the chance to hold her fifth son in her arms. Unlike with Scott and Virgil she never had the opportunity to stroke his little face and marvel at its perfection. She never had the opportunity to be disappointed that he wasn't a little girl and then bond with him by offering her breast as she had done with John. Unlike Gordon she never had the opportunity to shed tears of worry at putting him through the trauma of a caesarean birth and then watch him struggle for his life in an incubator.   
  
I promised her faithfully before she died that I would hold her little boy and love him for her. She knew I meant it and I did. I have never failed her to this day.  
  
Sadly for our little Alan he spent the first week of his life being cared for by the nurses at the hospital. Boston had a large maternity unit and it was very understaffed. There was no time to give special consideration to the little Tracy baby who had lost his mother so tragically.  
  
I still say that Alan learned all of his bad and untracy-like habits in that one week he lay in the hospital alone waiting for his Daddy to arrange his mother's funeral. I didn't have time to go to the hospital, not with so much else taking priority at that dreadful time. Jeff did check on the progress of his son each evening but the tiny newborn still spent his first days of life devoid of any kind of close contact.   
  
At the time when he should have been adjusting to the gentle touch and familiar smell of his mother he was being mechanically fed, winded, changed and put back in his crib. He was left to lay unattended in the corner of the nursery until the next time he was due for the same routine. He quickly learned if he wanted attention he had to make a fuss. So he decided to make a fuss about everything and he's been doing it ever since! I still say it. That week was the start of his undisciplined behaviour!  
  
The first time I ever held my grandson was after we brought him home from the hospital after his mother's funeral. The first thing he did to his Father was upset him. I'd never heard a baby scream quite as hysterically as this one and I ran about frantically trying to prepare a bottle to quiet him while Jeff walked him up and down in a vain attempt to stop the noise.   
  
I finally settled myself on the couch with this little boy of Lucy's and held him close to me to feed while Jeff attended to the other children. Despite the fact that he was a greedy baby and was drinking his bottle at record speed, he snuggled into my body desperately; his newborn instinct for human contact finally being satisfied. He buried himself so close to me that I couldn't even see him properly.  
  
When he finally slept, I managed to get a good look at the youngest son of Jeff Tracy. He was certainly a cute little thing, about the same size as Virgil, but with no distinct resemblance to either of his parents. He looked like having the makings of blonde hair, which was a relief. I was starting to wonder if there were any other shades of colouring Jeff Tracy could produce with the same woman. I felt sad looking at the bruising that was still evident on his tiny face from his traumatic delivery. I stroked his little head and began thinking about just how heartbreaking this whole situation was for my son and how scared he must be feeling knowing he had to raise this baby on his own.  
  
I had held myself together through the tragedy until that moment. I don't know what, but something happened inside me as I held that sweet little baby who would never see his mother smile at him. The magnitude of our family's loss suddenly came crashing in on me like a tidal wave causing me to let my guard down and cry for the first time since she had died. I cried for Lucy, for Jeff and for little Alan. Three people who never got to bond together as a family. I still say Alan would have been a different child if she had mothered him like his other brothers. Her love for her children had been so complete.   
  
Suddenly the blue eyes flew open. The little face screwed up. The screaming started. He had found something else to complain about right at the time I was trying to sympathize with him. There was no time for me to keep crying with that din going on. I ran around frantically again trying to find where I had put the diapers. I finally attended to that problem only to have him protest then because he had a tummy ache from drinking his bottle too fast! By the time he settled down with that, it was time to feed him again.  
  
This scene replayed itself in our household all day, every day, all night, and every night for months. He led us on one merry dance back then. He had no sleep. We had no sleep. We lived for every second day when he had exhausted himself so much that he slept for eight hours straight. Even then we checked on him anxiously to check he hadn't gone and died on us. Naturally when we did that we woke him up and the whole thing started all over again.   
  
He wore his Father out totally back then. He wore me out too, but six weeks after he was born he gave me a special reason to forgive him.  
  
As I held my little blonde grandson in the middle of one sleepless night he gave me that beautiful Tracy smile of his for the first time. It melted my heart.   
  
Alan Tracy still wears his Father out and I still melt whenever I see that smile. It's magic.  
  
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WILD NOTIONS  
  
Well my name is Josie and I know I'm his grandmother but I have to say right here and now that whilst I've seen some wild youngsters in my time none were as wild as this youngest Tracy son. From the moment he walked to his Daddy, this child was into everything, causing havoc and upset amongst the whole household. He'd managed to do that well and truly before he walked I might say but it was worse now.   
  
Alan had grown into a fine looking little toddler with huge baby blue eyes and flossy blonde hair with a hint of Lucy's curls. His smile was dazzling and instant. However mischief and mayhem was stamped across his forehead and his angelic looks didn't fool me for a minute. He loved his four brothers with a passion and the four of them reacted to their youngest brother in totally different ways.   
  
Scott virtually adopted him as a son. He fed him and nursed him as a baby and for years if I ever needed to put him to bed late in the evening I knew where to look. I always found Alan asleep on the couch cradled in his eldest brother's arms, his little blonde head against Scott's strong young body. It was evidence of their close bond. Alan still turns to Scott most of the time in preference to his father if he is worried or needs advice about anything and Scott is always there.  
  
Scott is always there for all of them.  
  
Virgil loved him and seemed to be the only one who could get him to sit still for more than two minutes. I used to laugh watching Alan stop dead in his tracks when Virgil started to play the piano. "Music soothes the savage beast" I'd think to myself as I saw him calm down and sit quietly next to his brother to listen.   
  
John was a different story altogether. I'm sure deep down inside he loved his little brother but John still associated Alan with the loss of his mother. Alan followed John around the house and John hated every minute of it. Blonde hair followed blonde. Blue eyes followed blue. But no relationship ever developed between them. John reluctantly accepted his little brother but his true feelings surfaced every now and then with an occasional resentful shove.  
  
Gordon was the brother that he really attached himself to. Thirteen months apart, totally different in appearance and personality, the two of them bonded from the beginning and played together happily. They would often be found fast asleep together on the same bed, the blonde head resting against the red. I suppose that's natural when two are born so close together. That closeness still exists between them now. I know they talk about a great many things together especially the ladies but as a Grandma who's learned more than a thing or two from eavesdropping on them over the years I don't listen anymore!  
  
Alan also revealed some of his not so lovable traits as he stared to grow. The whole family found out the hard way that our youngest little boy had inherited one mighty dangerous thing from his Grandfather; a very short fuse and one hell of a temper when anyone crossed him. He was Grant all over in that department and even Jeff commented how much like his father Alan was.  
  
I knew then and there that these two were never going to get along if that was the case. Jeff had always obeyed his Father but he had never agreed with him.   
  
It didn't take long for me to see how right I was about Jeff and his youngest son.  
  
No matter what Jeff did to try and get some peace and quiet, Alan figured out a way of interrupting him. It didn't help that Jeff spent much of Alan's early years away from home rebuilding his business and the little boy missed him. He had a fascination with his Father and seemed to have some sort of sixth sense when it came to knowing when Jeff was tired, irritable and in no mood for him. Of course that was when Alan wanted to be with Daddy.  
  
"Daddy, can you come and throw the ball to me?" the five year old would ask after Jeff had just returned from a gruelling week-long business trip in Japan and a long flight home cooped up alone in his small plane.  
  
Poor Jeff would be attempting to eat his dinner and trying not to fall asleep at the table.  
  
"Alan. Daddy's tired. I'm sorry." he would reply. "I throw it for you tomorrow I promise. I'll get up early if you like."  
  
"Daddy why not now?" Alan would complain.  
  
"No Alan. Not now." Jeff would reiterate firmly. "I said I'd throw it for you tomorrow."  
  
"But Daddy I want you to do it now!" Alan would insist, not willing to take no for an answer.  
  
"Stop it Alan!" Jeff would snap. "I said I would do it and I will."  
  
Alan's eyes would darken and in a fit of temper he would sweep his father's dinner plate and cognac glass off the table with his hand.   
  
"No Daddy. I said now!"  
  
The plate, the expensive glass and its equally expensive contents would crash to the ground while Alan stood there defiantly wanting his own way. You can imagine Jeff's face can't you? All hell would break loose in the kitchen as you can imagine. After the inevitable caning that followed and despite tears threatening to spill over at any moment Alan would lift his chin defiantly and say to his Father.  
  
"It didn't hurt anyway Daddy."  
  
That was our five year old wild-child; defiant, temperamental and determined to get his own way.  
  
But underneath the tough exterior of that little boy beat a very loving heart that simply missed his Daddy and just wanted to be with him. I could sense it. Grandmas know these things.  
  
The next year, Alan had grown up enough to notice the significance of his birthday to the sadness that filled our home each year as his Father dwelled on losing his mother.   
  
"Grandma, why is Daddy always so sad on my birthday?" he asked me, hurt that Jeff had spent most of his special day yet again moping around the house and locked up in his room after their visit to the cemetery.  
  
"Daddy really misses your mommy sweetie." I replied carefully.  
  
Alan knew about his mother dying and knew enough about how you felt if you missed someone with his father being away from him so much, but no other details about his mother had been given to him by anyone.  
  
"But why does he only miss her on my birthday?"   
  
I knew I had to answer this child. He would persist until he got what he wanted out of me.  
  
"Daddy is upset because she died on your birthday sweetie."  
  
"Oh." he said in a sad little voice which showed he understood.   
  
He then made the mistake of sharing his new information about his mother with Gordon. The two of them were trying to put together their own picture of Lucille in their minds with bits of information reluctantly given up by their Father and brothers and any other information they could get their hands on.  
  
Gordon listened to the information and then, much to my alarm said,  
  
"I know. Johnny says you killed mommy Alan."  
  
As I tore into the room to straighten that out quick smart, I saw little Alan's face fall. He looked at his older brother with hurt written all over him, not knowing whether to cry or explode.  
  
"I wouldna done that." he quivered, his chin trembling and his face starting to redden. "I wouldn't hurt no-one"   
  
"Johnny said you did." Gordon replied ever ready to upset his highly strung little brother. "He was crying after breakfast and when I asked him why he said it was because you killed mommy and he missed her. You go ask him yourself Alan."   
  
"I will then." Alan flared. "He's lying. I wouldn't do nothin' like that to my mommy."   
  
I sat the two of them down right then and there and told them in no uncertain terms that John was wrong to say that. Their Mommy had died on Alan's birthday because she was sick and the Doctors couldn't make her better again; not because Alan had done anything wrong. Alan did not look convinced and his worried little expression made me mighty mad at young John.  
  
I made it my business to have a quiet word with that young man! For a quiet nine year old he surprised me when he said with a directness I could only attribute to his Father.  
  
"Mommy died because she was hurt when she had Alan at the hospital not because she was sick Grandma. I heard Daddy say so a while back to Mr. Baillie. My Daddy wouldn't lie to anyone."  
  
Kevin Baillie was a lawyer Jeff had invited over for dinner one night to give him advice on a company matter. The young go-getting lawyer had seen Jeff's five little boys and the conversation turned around to Lucy and how she had died. Baillie actively urged him to sue the hospital for what happened to Lucy but his words fell on deaf ears as far as Jeff was concerned. The past was done. No amount of money could bring Lucy back so what was the point.  
  
However it appeared Mr. Baillie's words seemed to have fallen on the wrong ears as well. Young ears that really didn't understand about legal matters. Young ears that were attached to a young mouth that should have been kept shut.   
  
Sadly for Alan, it appeared he had been nearby when I spoke to John. A six year old could not comprehend that it had been medical negligence that had killed his mother. A six year old could only comprehend that he had somehow badly hurt his mother and now all of his brothers didn't have her because of it. A little six year old blamed himself.  
  
Alan never let on he had heard what his brother said but his behaviour should have given me a clue that something was up. But it didn't. Jeff and I were so used to the wild-child we thought that it was just the way he was.  
  
The little boy became more uncontrollable than ever. He exploded faster over the simplest of things. He swung out at anyone who crossed him. More plates got swept from the table as the little face confronted his Father. More canings followed.   
  
More and more his defiant retort of "It didn't hurt anyway Daddy" failed to fool his Grandma. I could see it hurt him all right and not just in the seat of his pants. The little face would crumble into unhappy tears when he thought Daddy wasn't looking. However he didn't realise Grandma still was.   
  
His Father shook his head and wondered what on earth he had done to be given this wild child to raise.  
  
If only Jeff had realised what the problem was back then. The thought about his mother plagued Alan for years and he didn't confide in anyone. Thank goodness he's sorted it out with his Father now.  
  
But as a Grandma who knows what's really underneath that arrogant, argumentative surface that is my grandson; I still say that Alan Tracy would have been a different person if he hadn't have lost his mother.   
  
But he did. And the wild child was going to get even wilder yet.  
  
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````  
  
WILD ANTICS  
  
Alan's close relationship with his brother Gordon was a good thing in many ways but in others it was a nightmare. For us that is. I've already told you about Gordon's practical jokes and Alan's role as his accomplice. The two of them made a formidable pair as they grew towards their teens.   
  
They entered puberty within months of each other and one night Jeff sighed to me before dinner that it was time for him to give "that talk" yet again. He'd already gone through it three times and had decided that to save himself the grief of giving it another two times he'd give it to Gordon and Alan together.  
  
Jeff had never been comfortable discussing sex with any of his sons. Lord knows why I thought to myself given the fact he had fathered five sons himself. Scott had listened with confusion at Jeff's first attempt which had been clumsy and all over the place, Virgil got a better version of it and could least understand what his Father was saying, and by the time he got to John, he'd just about got it down to a university lecture. John knew everything about himself and women within twenty minutes. Little did Jeff know what he was getting himself into with sons' numbers four and five!   
  
I knew Jeff was going to be in trouble from the start when he called the two of them back after dinner and told them that he wanted to talk with them privately. Gordon was thirteen, Alan was twelve. Gordon knew what was coming. He'd been waiting for it with great expectation since his thirteenth birthday.  
  
"Is it the sex talk Dad?" he asked with a wide mischievous grin. Alan had originally thought they were in for a caning for something and had opened his mouth to argue until he heard Gordon mention that. He looked at his Father with interest.  
  
"Did you say you wanted me too Dad?" he asked and a grin bigger than his brother's stole across his features as his father nodded, reddened and looked across the table at me indicating he needed me to leave.  
  
I made an excuse to get up from the table, muttering something about dishes to be done and laundry needing attention.  
  
I know I shouldn't have listened to this but it was honestly hilarious and one of the most embarrassing moments of Jeff Tracy's entire life. I sat outside that dining room in silent hysteria from the moment my poor son opened his mouth and tried to explain to his two youngest sons about "life". I couldn't see their faces or how they were all interacting but the discussion was worth its weight in pure gold.  
  
Jeff began with his usual throat clearing and dramatic silence; "Boys you're now thirteen and very soon you're going to see some changes in yourself."  
  
"But I'm only twelve Dad." Alan interrupted.   
  
"Alan you'll be thirteen in eight months."  
  
"But I'm only twelve now." he interrupted again.  
  
"OK you're only twelve but it won't be long before you'll see what I'm talking about."  
  
"Will I still be twelve?" he interrupted the third time.   
  
"Alan please keep quiet. I'm trying to talk to you."   
  
"If it happens to him at twelve why didn't it happen to me at twelve?" Now it was Gordon's turn to interrupt.   
  
"I didn't say it would happen to him at twelve did I?" Jeff asked. "I haven't even told either of you what's going to happen yet."  
  
There was the dramatic silence again. The clearing of the throat again. He started again.  
  
"Now as I said before. The two of you are going to see some changes in yourselves."  
  
"Like what Dad?" Alan asked knowing full well what was coming next. He and Gordon had watched Scott, Virgil, and John before them and they knew exactly what was going to happen to them.  
  
"Well, your voice is going to get deeper for one thing." he went on carefully, cringing at what was coming next. "And other parts of you will change."  
  
"Yeah Alan maybe you'll grow a brain." Gordon teased getting his father off track again.  
  
"Why don't you blow your brain out of your ass!" Alan retorted, knowing full well he wasn't allowed to speak like that in front of his Father.  
  
"Don't say that Alan." Jeff admonished him. "Speak to your brother with respect."  
  
"Anyway your ass is close enough to what Dad means anyway." Gordon joked.  
  
"I know what Dad means!" Alan frowned. "I'm not stupid."  
  
The dramatic silence again. Dear God Jeff I thought; please don't start from the beginning again.  
  
"Now when that happens, there are going to be times when those parts will seem to be out of your control. Sometimes your thoughts might cause things to happen and sometimes nothing will. But you will definitely find you're going to be able to do things you could never do before."  
  
"I hope I'm twelve when that happens." Alan exclaimed enthusiastically.  
  
"You won't be twelve when that happens." Jeff said in a dead pan tone. "You'll probably be fourteen."  
  
"I thought you said it happened at thirteen Dad!" Gordon said disappointed.  
  
"No I said now that you're thirteen it might start to happen."  
  
"But I'm only twelve." Alan chimed in.  
  
"Boys!" Jeff snapped in frustration. "I'm trying to talk to you seriously."  
  
"Were you fourteen?" Gordon asked his Father.  
  
"I can't remember." Jeff replied curtly.  
  
"Well you might have been thirteen then." Alan interrupted.  
  
"I don't know what age I was boys but I know that I was certainly capable of it by the time I got to High School!" Jeff said exasperated.  
  
Silence. "Oh Jeff what a mistake this was", I thought. I even started to wonder if I should go in like the cavalry and offer to save him from those two. The misery for him continued.  
  
"Dad; are you going to tell us about girls too?" Alan asked.  
  
I haven't told you about the relationship between our Alan and young Tin-Tin Kyrano yet but I will later on. Just take it from me that Tin-Tin was twelve too and Alan had noticed the changes in her little girl's body these past twelve months and had a fascination with them.  
  
Jeff heaved an almighty sigh. "Yes I am Alan. I'm going to tell about girls and anything else you want to know if you give me the chance to get a word in edgewise."  
  
"Tell us about the girls first." Gordon said. "And save the best till last."  
  
"Girls are different to boys. "Jeff began and had to stop as both Alan and Gordon burst into uncontrollable laughter at his statement of the obvious. He must have glared at them as within ten seconds the laughter had subsided.  
  
"That's the way nature intended it to be." he continued uncomfortably. "Girls bodies are made like they are so that boys like you will be attracted to them. And as I said before once that happens you could find yourself in a position where you feel certain urges."  
  
Now it was Gordon's turn. "What sort of urges Dad?"  
  
Silence again. My son Jeff may have been a wonderful business brain but he was no educator of young men in physical matters.  
  
"Urges to be together." he finally said carefully.  
  
"Do the girls feel the same urges then too?" Alan asked.  
  
"Well I've never raised a daughter." Jeff admitted. "I don't know about when they feel them but girls do I suppose."  
  
"I'm gonna ask Tin-Tin if she feels any urges." Alan said much to the absolute dismay of his Father.  
  
"Indeed you won't!" Jeff threatened. "If you do, you'll get a caning from me!"  
  
"How come she's changing anyway Dad? She's only twelve. Why do I have to be thirteen?"  
  
"I don't know Alan. Girls change earlier than boys. They go through a lot more when they change than boys do."  
  
"Like what Dad?" asked Gordon, for once in his life truly innocent.  
  
"Gordon we're not talking about girls here, we're talking about boys." Jeff replied.  
  
"No Dad you said we were talking about girls." Alan reminded him. "But anyway I know what happens to 'em."  
  
Jeff went silent again, panic stricken at what this wild son of his was about to say.  
  
"How do you know?" he frowned.  
  
"Cos Tin-Tin's just got it for the first time a few weeks back."  
  
"Got what Alan?" asked Gordon who knew nothing about that side of things and annoyed that Alan seemed to know more than he did.  
  
"I'm not tellin' you. I promised her I wouldn't say anything. But I'm glad I'm not a girl."  
  
"You're gonna tell me later." Gordon threatened. "Or I swear I'll beat your sorry ass."  
  
"Watch your mouth Gordon..." Jeff started but he was cut short by his wild child.   
  
"Gordo I'm not tellin'." Alan said stubbornly to his brother.  
  
"Well I'll ask Tin-Tin then." Gordon said determinedly.  
  
"The hell you will!" Alan burst out. "It's not somethin' she wants everyone to know about"  
  
"Well you know." Gordon replied.  
  
"I'm allowed to know. She's my friend." Alan snapped.  
  
"Now both of you sit here and listen to me." Jeff exploded embarrassed beyond belief. "You'll say nothing about that to Tin-Tin. She's a young lady and has enough to worry about without the two of you asking her questions. I've got to tell you about all of this because it's serious for young men. Now keep quiet and let me say what I have to say."  
  
The two of them quieted then and sat listening to the lecture. Until the how do you protect yourself part began. Jeff must have pulled out an example for them to see.   
  
"Johnny's got some of those. " Gordon exclaimed. "They're in his drawer."  
  
Alan had merely looked at his father and said disdainfully. "That's stupid. I'm not using that."  
  
The lecture finally wound down until Jeff asked them if they had any questions to ask him. He winced as he waited. Finally it came and of course it came from the wild child.  
  
"When did you have sex for the first time Dad?"   
  
"When I had married your mother of course." Jeff lied as he left the room totally defeated and totally embarrassed.   
  
I heard Alan say. "I'm not waiting until I'm that old."   
  
There began the rumblings of the wild-child.  
  
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WILD EXPERIENCES  
  
True to his form, my grandson Alan did not wait until he was the age his Father "got married" to experience women. When his brother Gordon told him about his experience in the shower at the United States Swimming Championships, the fifteen year old actively sought his own first time. How do I know? It wasn't half obvious by the way he was looking at young Tin-Tin every minute of every day! After that night when Alan seemed to have such an intimate knowledge of young Tin-Tin's personal business, I watched him like a hawk at home. If he was looking for experience he certainly wasn't going to find it in that quarter!  
  
Nevertheless he found it elsewhere and under the same circumstances as his brother John. It must go with the territory of being blonde or plain stupid I decided as Jeff tore out of the house like King Kong yet again after a call from the school principal. Alan had been caught out in full flight in the science lab, and not just with any student. It had to be the Principal's daughter. He was suspended as his brother was before him and Jeff spent nearly a whole week with that boy lecturing him from the time the sun came up to the time it went down. Fifteen years old; the youngest of all of them. I told Jeff it was disgraceful and he'd better do something about it.  
  
Several months later he moved on to something else. Jeff had gone out of town on business and given Alan the job of sorting out all his engineering plans by the time he got back. It was no doubt a punishment for something and goodness knows what for but as the evening drew on I noticed that I hadn't seen Alan about. I remembered he had been given the task and thought he must be actually obeying his Father for a change. I worried he wasn't feeling well. Well I wasn't short of the mark!  
  
I found that boy legless to say the least, feet up on the desk in his Father's study. Aircraft plans worth millions of dollars were in disarray around him. His Father's brand new bottle of bourbon was half empty.  
  
"Hey there Josie." he had the nerve to say to me, "I'm just tidyin' up on the old man's plans. Wanna join me for a night cap?"  
  
I saw red and barged into that study fuming like a volcano. I was not going to let this go on right under my nose.  
  
"Night cap! I'll give you a night cap all right young man!" I roared, snatching up the bottle in one hand and Alan's ear in the other.  
  
"Ow!" he complained and I told him I was glad that it hurt.   
  
I railed at him. "If you think I'm too old to give you a good old fashioned lashing to your hind parts then you don't know me too well. I've never seen the likes of this. You're a disgrace Alan Tracy that's what. Now get yourself out of here now and into bed before I forget myself and forget I'm your Grandmother. Your Daddy will be furious if he finds out about this. "  
  
I could imagine Jeff's reaction as I rolled the plans back into some semblance of order and tried to sort out his Office. I'd had enough of this young man's antics let me tell you. He had to be stopped and right now.  
  
The next morning as he sat sheepishly at the breakfast table nursing one mighty sore head, I banged about the kitchen making my displeasure clearly known.  
  
"Grandma, I'm really sorry about last night." he murmured, his face as pale as a dead mans ghost.   
  
Sorry? Humph! I'd give him sorry!  
  
I banged down a glass of home made hangover remedy on the table. It had always helped Grant and I didn't mind it myself when it was warranted.  
  
"Drink that." I directed in a tone not to be argued with.  
  
"I can't Grandma." he moaned. "I'll lose it I swear."  
  
"Drink it!" I demanded and sat down opposite him as he did so. I looked him in the eye and grabbed his arm in a fierce grasp.  
  
"Now you listen here to me good and proper Alan Tracy. You're a youngster out of control at the moment. First the women, now the drink. None of it's right and I'm not going to sit back here and see you ruin yourself for anyone. Your poor little mother entrusted you to me before she died and I'm damned if I'm going to let her down. You cut all this damned nonsense out this very minute or I swear you'll know what it's like to really deal with me. You got that young man?"  
  
"Yes ma'am" he replied without lifting his head.  
  
"I mean it young man." I glared.  
  
"I know you do ma'am."   
  
Well he might have gotten the point about the women and the drink but there was always another vice that this wild child could rustle up to tempt himself. He didn't settle down. Instead, he developed a passion for fast cars. Newly through his Driver's test he decided to see what it was like to break the sound barrier. Naturally he did it in his Father's brand new Porsche. You can imagine Jeff's face as the New York Police Department knocked on the door at two o'clock in the morning to return his precious Porsche and his not so precious at that moment teenage son requesting he be told to take more care on the road and carry his licence.   
  
His Father had exploded right there and then on the spot. He thought Alan had been in bed but no, Alan had taken the keys and gone out in the middle of the night without a word.  
  
"What the hell are you trying to prove Alan?" he fumed as his son stood, head down yet again, in front of him. "You can't just play things by the rules can you? Just once in your entire life would be a damned blessing for me! Can't you make my life less of a strain? I just don't understand you."  
  
"I'm investing in my career Dad." he replied.  
  
  
  
"Career? What career?"  
  
  
  
"I'm not trying to give you grief Dad." he said matter-of factly. "I want to go on the circuit as a racing car driver after High School and I need to practice. Racing's the career I want. There's money to be made and good times to be had. I'm serious."  
  
Oh dear, I thought watching Jeff's face turn six shades of scarlet. When did this ever end?  
  
Racing car Driver? Somehow it just didn't seem to cut it up there with the careers his other sons had followed.  
  
  
  
Jeff put his foot down like he'd never done before.  
  
"What a load of rubbish. That's not a career. It's an excuse to do nothing and why doesn't it surprise me that it's you that's thought of it? Alan I'm not arguing with you. I'm telling you. You're going to College." he said making it very clear there would be no argument. "Colorado is where you are headed and I've already looked at the course of study you should take. Jet Propulsion Engineering looks about right for you."  
  
"But Dad that's not Me." he argued. "I'm not going there."  
  
Jeff was yelling now.  
  
"Nothing I suggest is ever you. I'm telling you that you are going there unless you come up with a better career option and then I'll discuss it with you."  
  
"But with racing I can make more money than you can in one year Dad." he kept on. "I'm fast and I'm good."  
  
At sixteen fast enough to make more than Jeff's annual profits of six billion dollars per year? Wow! He must be fast. He was also stupid if he thought his Father would listen to that kind of talk.  
  
"Hear me again Alan. You're on your way to Colorado." he said and turned away. End of story!  
  
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````WILD TIMES  
  
The next year Jeff personally took that wild son of his to Colorado to begin his course of study. He warned him he expected results. His brother's achievements were pointed out. The wild child reluctantly listened knowing his Father meant business.  
  
But he wanted to be on the race-track where life was fast. It didn't take him long to find Parola Sans was nearby. It didn't take him long to make himself know there.   
  
His grades in College were bad and there was only one explanation Alan could give his Father. What we thought was his week-end pastime turned out to be his full time study. Alan had only been at one class at College each week for a full year but he'd won quite a bit at Parola Sans.  
  
Well the wild child was confronted by the wild father and later by his equally wild eldest brother who flew from Nevada to Colorado to sort him out. Scott complained to me vehemently about the way his brother was turning out. I thought he only meant cutting classes. It turned out Alan was also leading a wild life on campus.  
  
"Grandma I'm worried about him." Scott confided now a full military man like his father and with high expectations of himself and others. "He's with a different girl every night. Out on the drink until all hours of the morning. I think Dad should pull him out of college and just let him race before he ruins himself completely."  
  
I considered Scott's words but I had to admit life wouldn't be any different if Alan was on the racing circuit, it would probably be worse. We'd have no control over him at all then. I told Scott my thoughts. He nodded and said he guessed I was right. He offered to go back to Colorado and try to talk to him again before their Father killed him.  
  
Then all of a sudden something happened to our wild child. Something that made him stop cutting classes, stop wanting to be with a different girl each night, stop drinking until all hours of the morning and finally start applying himself to his studies.  
  
That something had been under his nose for ten years and she suddenly hit him right between the eyes during his last college vacation.   
  
Miss Tin-Tin Kyrano.  
  
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WILDLY IN LOVE  
  
If you met young Tin-Tin Kyrano you would wonder how such a shy, sweet, pretty little thing could have possibly tamed our wild child. She came to our home when she was nine years old and had grown up next to my grandson. He was her closest friend and the two of them had no secrets from each other. I guess you gathered that when Alan knew so much about Tin-Tin becoming a woman. I'm still not happy he knew about that I might say and I still don't know how he found out. I just know Tin-Tin wouldn't have told him. She had been traumatised enough herself when it happened without telling that young devil about it.   
  
They grew into teenagers together and as I said before I saw how Alan looked at her when he was fifteen and worried that he would abuse her trust in an attempt to gain experience in his wild ways. Strangely enough despite my worries he didn't appear to want to compromise their friendship. It obviously ran deep between them; almost like family and Tin-Tin was like a part of our family.  
  
I noticed however that he started giving her the occasional sideways glance again in his senior year of High School. It was a glance I knew well. He was obviously attracted to her but he knew he couldn't have her in the way he wanted. He hid his feelings behind a mask of jokes and teasing. I noticed things were pretty well mutual if sideways looks were anything to gauge it by. She would often look at him shyly when she thought no-one was looking. I didn't know whether to get uneasy again or not.  
  
Fortunately they went off to college and only saw each other in the vacations. The sideways glances were still there from both of them but our wild child was too busy worrying about racing around a track like a rat on a wheel to do anything about it.  
  
However when they returned from college for their final vacation I don't know what the heck happened but something did. All of a sudden they seemed to want to spend a mighty long amount of time together. Alone.  
  
I know my grandson. I know how he thinks. I could see he had fallen for the little Kyrano girl. It now remained to be seen as to what he intended to do about it; his usual fast and furious loving or something more. It turns out he's chosen something more and I am very pleased about that. She is a beautiful girl and would make him a lovely wife.  
  
Jeff Tracy owes that little girl a lot. What ever she did to his wild son that during vacation turned him around, not completely as I doubt anyone will ever be able to do that, but enough to get him through College.   
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
When Alan finished College, he was immediately summoned back home to talk to his Father. His Father wanted him to undertake space training. He wanted him to be a part of International Rescue and couldn't commence operations until he had a reliable Astronaut. He wanted Alan to be that Astronaut.  
  
I couldn't believe he had selected the son that was the least like him to follow in his own footsteps. I could see the wild child thinking, "I don't want to be an Astronaut" and feared Jeff would get the same reply as Gordon had given him.   
  
Strangely enough he didn't. Alan agreed to do as his Father wanted without argument for the first time in his life and entered the training programme immediately. His training was to be specialised but brief and it was to be complemented by on the job training by his Father and brother John. It turned out that when Alan Tracy applied himself he was quite a capable young man and his Father was impressed with his progress. But he still argued as his Father trained him wanting to take any short cut he could. What's new!  
  
Now he pilots Thunderbird Three and rotates with John in Thunderbird Five. He loves the vastness of space and the speed of his Thunderbird. He pilots Thunderbird One when the need arises much to the worry of his eldest brother who knows how brazen he is. His wild child ways often hamper International Rescue as he has no hesitation to go straight in or fear of anything. His older brothers constantly have to watch over him to ensure they don't have to rescue him as well but sometimes that wildness is just what those older brothers of his need. Alan will always push himself and his craft as fast as his Father wants. Sometimes he pushes too fast for his own safety.  
  
But Jeff, the master in space, is wary. He knows Alan is still very young and still very wild and he needs to learn.  
  
I'm taking a deep breath.  
  
Thunderbird Three landed back here over half an hour ago. We'll see how right I am shall we? Here comes the couch now. I'd better stand in my usual spot.  
  
What's that I hear? The voice of the wild child!  
  
"Dad, if you'd only see things my way for once you'd know I'm right!"  
  
How unusual. He's arguing with his Father!  
  
"If only you'd listen to me you'd be a better Astronaut for it Alan."  
  
How unusual. His Father sounds exasperated.  
  
There he is. He has just strode in. He is looking around. His eyes rest on me. He is giving me his dazzling smile. He's coming towards me.  
  
"Surprise Grandma your favourite Grandson is home!" he says mischievously as he hugs me tight. It almost feels the same as that little newborn baby who once needed to snuggle so close to his Grandma trying to feel that someone loved him.  
  
"What are you doing here darling?" I ask him with "surprise".  
  
"There's no show without the star." he replies. "So here I am."   
  
He kisses my cheek and as he does he whispers quietly so only I can hear.  
  
"You knew about this all along didn't you Grandma?"  
  
He sees my answer in my eyes and smiles. I feel my feet leave the floor and the floor spin around. Oh no. Please don't Alan! I've had one too many scotches already.  
  
"Alan put your Grandmother down this instant! She's seventy five now for goodness sake." How unusual. His father is rebuking him.  
  
My feet are now on the floor but my glasses are off my face. How unusual, I think as I reach up to try to retrieve them.  
  
"I swear to God you will never grow up boy!" That's Jeff again. How unusual.  
  
"Give me a break Dad. Grandma doesn't mind do you?" he says putting my glasses on my face and kissing my cheek.  
  
Before I can reply Alan has started to argue with his Father again. How unusual.  
  
"Now as I was saying Dad. I'm the pilot of that baby not you. I know that…."  
  
"Alan I'm not going to argue with you any longer. It's your Grandmother's birthday and like the rest of us I'm sure that she doesn't want to listen to you."  
  
Jeff has given up on the argument. How unusual.  
  
I watch as those blue eyes scan the room. I know what's coming next.  
  
"I'm starved. The food up in that satellite is nothing like yours Grandma. I'm going into the kitchen to find something decent to eat."   
  
Well young man that something isn't in the kitchen right now. She's downstairs in the cellar with her Father selecting the wines for the party.  
  
"Let me tell you there's nothing in there you want young man." I tell him as our eyes meet.  
  
"Grandma, I don't know what you're talking about." he says naively.  
  
How unusual. He's looking for his little lady and he thinks I don't know!  
  
The party is going to start soon and none of these Tracy men really know the stories I have been telling about them. It's probably just as well they don't.  
  
However I look affectionately in the direction where my youngest grandson has gone and think about that beautiful little English girl who asked me to love her little baby for her just before she died all those years ago.  
  
Lucy. I have loved and guided your little boy for you as you wanted. I know he turned out to be your wild child but you'd be proud of your youngest son today despite of it.  
  
I am and despite the hard times he's given him, I think your Jeff is too.  
  
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````Author's Note - This story was always intended to intertwine with Commitment. Please review.  
  
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NEXT CHAPTER - "THINKING OF JOSIE - OUR GRANDMA." ```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` 


	10. FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL PART 1 ...

Author's Note - I'm glad you enjoyed the Wild Child. It's my favourite chapter.  
  
But now it's time the Tracy brothers and their Father got to defend themselves and say a little about Josie! mcj   
  
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CHAPTER 7 - FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL  
  
PART 1 - THE FATHER'S APPRENTICE SPEAKS  
  
I cannot believe that I am nearly thirty years old, and have been suffering this "party secret" thing for Dad's sake for nearly two months now. For two months I have pretended to know absolutely nothing about Dad's plans for Grandma tonight and all I can say is this;   
  
"Dad who in the hell do you think you are kidding?"  
  
Not Grandma that's for sure.   
  
I've lied about this whole thing for ages and I've hated every minute of it even though it is for my Father and I always support Dad in everything. I'm the eldest and supporting my Father is my role around here. However I really hate lying to Grandma.  
  
I lie badly too I might say. I sweat and shake and panic. Why? I'll tell you why! I just simply cannot do it and be convincing. Believe me I tried telling her many a good yarn over the years to try and keep myself out of trouble but I've failed each and every time with her. I know I've failed this time too.   
  
I know she knows about this party and I'm also worried sick about how she's been settling the score behind my back for me "stretching the truth".   
  
I know she's been telling you about my life and that worries me for a start because I know she knows too many things about me that I don't really want other people to know.  
  
You never know what Grandma will do to you if she's discontent about something and now that I've lied to her; me, the Grandson who she trusts with her innermost secrets, you can bet she is going to be one disgruntled little old lady around me. That's when she's at her most dangerous. Can you imagine a Grandma ever being dangerous? Well if you can't you haven't met mine.   
  
What makes it worse is that because I'm the eldest, I'm the one she's going to blame for it all and she's probably told more up front and personal things about me than everyone else. There's one really embarrassing thing I hope she didn't tell you and I'm cringing at the thought that she might have. No, not even Grandma would embarrass me like that. But then, maybe she would.  
  
No matter what she won't say a thing to my four brothers. She won't thunder,  
  
"Virgil Tracy ! How dare you look me in the face all these weeks and lie to your Grandma! You're a disgrace to this family!"   
  
She won't say that any more than she'll tell you that he hides paintings of Mom in the attic.  
  
No Sir, she won't say that to Johnny or to Gordon either. She also won't tell you that John got suspended from School for sowing his wild oats with Miranda Mason after smoking two joints in the gym or that Gordon made out with the top swimmer in the United States swimming squad when he was only sixteen and she was almost twenty-two.   
  
She definitely won't say anything to her precious little Alan who's gotten away with murder with her for years and who thinks none of us know that he and Tin-Tin Kyrano have their own little make-out session going on right this minute in his room as I'm talking to you. You only had to see Grandma melt when he walked into the lounge just now swaggering around like he owns the place and arguing the point with my Father.  
  
But she won't think twice saying anything to me though and why?   
  
It always goes back to me being the eldest. I've been suffering that my whole life and not just with her.   
  
My Dad expects more of me than my brothers and so does Grandma.  
  
It's tough sometimes and I've been doing it tough ever since I was nine years old. Ever since my Mom died and Dad broke down three months after that.   
  
Grandma's probably told you about my Mom. My brothers and I don't talk about her much with Dad; actually we don't talk about her at all. It hurts Dad too much and I don't like seeing my Father hurting. I'd rather hurt inside not talking about it than to see him hurt on the outside by having to.  
  
Virgil and John don't agree though. They want Dad to talk about her and so does Grandma. She thinks he'll feel better about things if he does but I'm not so sure.   
  
Dad changed when Mom died. I've never been able to put my finger on what it was that actually did change about him though. He was always the most wonderful Dad to me and he still is but back then he had something different and extra special about him. Something special that made him my "Daddy" not just my Father and I've often felt it was something Mom brought out in him. It had to be because whatever it was, it went into the casket with her and it never came back. Ever.   
  
I've often asked Grandma what she thought that special something was. She says only Mom knew because only Mom could bring it out in him. Grandma told me Dad was never the same after meeting her and never the same after losing her either. He changed when he met her and when she died he changed right back again.  
  
I've always felt sad for my little brothers, not so much Virgil who knew what it was like back then but for Johnny who only really remembers Dad the way he is now. Gordon and Alan never got to see what their real "Daddy" was like anymore than they got to know mom.  
  
I guess being the eldest was good in that respect. At least I got to have a Mom longer than the other guys. Eight years and eleven months was better than four hours eleven minutes like Alan.   
  
But enough about losing Mom. It hurt me back then and it hurts me even now. My Grandma has always made sure Mom is always uppermost in my heart and that I always remember how special she was and how much she loved me.  
  
I am like my Dad . I think like him and I act like him. I look like him too but I guess you have to look like someone don't you?   
  
But Grandma won't accept that. She knows Mom physically exists in all of us.  
  
"He maybe like his Daddy but that curly hair of his was made in England." Grandma would say to anyone who said I looked nothing like Mom.  
  
As for Grandma, I love her more than life itself and I am thrilled she has made it to her seventy-fifth birthday.  
  
However, I want to say some things in my own defence if she has told you the things about me that I think she has.  
  
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THE APPLE OF MY PARENT'S EYES  
  
Grandma says I always wanted to be an Astronaut. She will have told you that for sure. She's told everyone that over the years from the milkman in Boston right down to my Commander in the Air Force.   
  
I don't remember ever saying that and neither do I believe it. I look at Johnny and Alan and then picture my life in the Air Force and my love of Thunderbird One. Astronaut? I doubt it. I suffer the occasional co-pilot in Thunderbird Three and that's only because that kid brother of mine is so reckless sometimes, but space has never done much for me not like it did for Dad.   
  
But a love of flying…that's another story. That's something Dad and I do have very much in common. Dad taught me to fly when I was around fifteen. He was a great pilot and a good and patient Teacher. He always praised me and told me how good I was too. The only time I've ever doubted myself was when I ditched my Jet fighter at Langley trying to outdo everyone else in the squadron. Yeah that was the old blot on the military record for me and it made me realise I'm not infallible.  
  
Grandma doesn't know about that much to my relief. I least I don't think she does. She hasn't said anything and with her you know she knows things by the look on her face. Her face hasn't given that one away yet so I think I'm safe. I hope so. The last thing I want is for Dad to find out about that. I was really relieved when the Air Force made no official statement about my little "accident".  
  
She always tells a lame tale about me being jealous of Virgil when he was small. I don't remember ever looking on Virgil like that. He might have been Mom's favourite but I was Dad's so there wasn't a problem there. I think Grandma got it wrong.   
  
Anyhow I'm supposed to have taken Virgil's diaper off and somehow made him "forget" himself and wet all over my parent's bed. If you want my opinion Grandma probably had one too many scotches that night and didn't do the darned thing up properly. She likes a scotch my Grandma and don't let her ever tell you otherwise.  
  
  
  
Then there's the story about when Gordon was born. She thought I was a genius back then because I knew where I lived and Dad's telephone number. Heck I was seven years old and had two little brothers and another one about to be born. You had to have your wits about you then. Mom was always scared about losing one of us in the shopping centre and every single time we went to the shops she'd ask me the same questions in the car.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
I'd say "Scott Jefferson Tracy."  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
I'd say "550 Paramount Road."  
  
"What's Daddy's mobile telephone number?"  
  
I'd say "0414815237."   
  
"Where's Daddy today?"  
  
I'd look at her blankly for today's update. He was in a different place most days with his business and you never knew what the right answer was unless Mom told you.   
  
"Daddy's in New York today" she'd say firmly. "So what do you do if something happens to Mommy or your little brothers?"  
  
I'd say. "Stay calm and tell the policeman my name, where I live, tell him Daddy is in New York and give him Daddy's mobile telephone number."  
  
"Good boy." she'd say and run her hand through my hair. So Grandma I wasn't actually a genius. Mom programmed it into me several days a week and luckily when Gordon was born it came in most useful.  
  
It was nice to think Grandma thought I was genius anyway. She has always thought highly of me and that's reassuring but after the party secret comes out I might not quite be as popular in her eyes as I think. She won't forget about that and her memory is a long one.  
  
I too have a good memory just like Grandma. I'll bet she thinks I can't remember a conversation we had one night when she took Virg, John and me out to a movie. Grandma had been sent to take us out so Mom and Dad could be alone.  
  
I was eight then and after three brothers and the occasional glimpse of my parents naked together after we'd been sent to bed early by Dad for no good reason; I knew what it meant when Dad wanted to be alone with Mom. Alone with Mom meant Dad expected you to stay in your room. You never knew where they'd be if you ventured out... the lounge room when you forgot your security blanket, the kitchen if you needed a drink, or their bed with the door half-open if you needed to go past and use the bathroom.  
  
I was going to tell Grandma not to go back when she said she forgot her purse because I knew Dad would more than likely go mad at her like he went mad at us if we interrupted things with him and Mom. But I guessed Grandma knew they did that sort of stuff and Dad would never go mad at Grandma.  
  
But when she got back in the car looking miffed about what was going on in the house I knew it had to be Mom and Dad that had caused it. So I asked her was Dad kissing Mom without his clothes on again.   
  
She lied and said no. I knew she lied because two months later Mom and Dad had a huge fight about another baby coming.  
  
No-one ever had to tell me how you made babies Grandma so don't think I can't remember what Dad and Mom got up to back when I was young.  
  
I most certainly can.  
  
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A LITTLE BOY LOST  
  
I know I said I didn't want to talk about Mom anymore and I don't but no doubt Grandma told you about the things that happened to me when she died.  
  
I asked Dad if I could stay at the hospital and help with Mom's arrangements but he said no and sent me home with Grandma. I was so scared I'd lose Dad too back then and I was still scared right up to when I joined the Air Force after College.  
  
Dad let me read at Mom's funeral and I remember feeling like I did something really important for him that day even though no-one really listened to what I was reading. They were all crying too much to listen to me.  
  
Dad was so cut up after Mom died and poor Grandma was trying to do everything she could to make him feel better.   
  
I remember Dad struggling with money and his business and the babies and Grandma telling him he had to let her help. But Dad wouldn't let her.  
  
And then Dad and Grandma forgot my birthday.  
  
Next to Mom dying and losing Addy's love, that was the saddest day of my life.  
  
I really don't think it actually hit me that Mom wasn't coming back anymore until that day.   
  
Mom usually gave us a party on our birthday and we got to play some great games that she devised. We always had a cake and lots of presents even though they were only small and simple things. Mom was mindful of money since Dad's business had been in trouble but she always seemed to manage to find something special for a birthday no matter what. Dad always joined in the games and enjoyed the cake even if he was busy and we all knew he was. We knew how worried he was about the business but didn't understand why. Mom and Dad never told us anything about their money troubles but being the eldest I knew.  
  
That dreadful day that I turned nine, there was nothing.  
  
No party, no games, no cake, no presents.   
  
It drove home the fact to me that my Mom was gone. Gone forever.  
  
At least Virgil made me feel a little better. He played the piano for me even though Dad had forbidden him to do it. I still see him singing to me in the dark while all the while looking towards the door in fear that Dad would hear him and both of us would get a caning.  
  
Even Grandma didn't remember my birthday. That was the only day she's ever let me down.   
  
Dad said something to me when he remembered later. I don't know what jogged his memory in the middle of the night but I remember him coming downstairs in an old T-shirt and pyjama bottoms looking dreadful and sending Virgil up to bed. Luckily he'd finished playing the piano at that stage. All Dad did was cry that he had let me down.  
  
I tried to make him feel better by saying it didn't matter when deep down in my heart it really did. Things like birthdays are important to you when you are a child and even though I was the eldest and I had to help with the others I was still a little boy back then.   
  
Eventually I started crying too and it was more about Mom than the birthday. I asked my Dad why she had to die and he couldn't talk to me about it. Then both of us cried until Alan woke up and he had to tend to him. We still have never talked about it.  
  
Grandma says I never cried about Mom enough and it wasn't healthy for a child.   
  
She was always trying to drag my emotions out of me but like Dad I kept them inside unless I was by myself.  
  
Well Grandma you would have been seen me crying on my birthday if you'd remembered it and rest assured I've shed many private tears in my room over the years because I didn't have a Mom when it counted.  
  
Mother's days at school; when I graduated from High School; when I finished College; being decorated in the Air Force. She would have been so proud of me following in Dad's footsteps.  
  
But as I said I don't want to talk about Mom anymore. Why do I keep thinking of her then when it's Grandma I'm telling you about?  
  
It all goes back to Grandma never letting any of us forget her.   
  
Even though Dad has tried to forget her for years, it's never really worked for any of us. Grandma says we must never forget. I wish Dad accepted that.  
  
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THE TEENAGE HEARTBREAKER  
  
Grandma always referred to me as a teenage heartbreaker because of the number of different girls that I brought home from school when I was in High School.  
  
She never let up at Dad about making sure he'd told me enough about women and life. I wanted to remind both of them that Dad had done that quite graphically already when I witnessed him with Mom.  
  
If Grandma thought I didn't know what to do she was sadly mistaken and if she thought Dad hadn't told me himself she was wrong about that too. Dad had told me all right but I think I learned more watching him at seven than listening to him tell me at thirteen.  
  
I must admit I enjoyed being popular in High school. I was tall and very like my father to look at and I suppose being the eldest son of a billionaire made the girls like me. Not that being wealthy made any difference in our home. Grandma wouldn't have it.  
  
She expected that the five of us behaved like normal youngsters as she put it and that meant to her that we were polite and respectful and didn't think our place in life was above anyone else. So it always came as an embarrassment to me if someone mentioned with surprise that I was a nice young fellow given I was a "rich kid".  
  
I loved confusing Grandma with the girls I brought home. Not that I had to try hard to confuse her. She had a terrible head for names and faces unless that particular name or face did something to make themselves memorable in her eyes. I was constantly in damage control when she called my latest flame "Candy" when her name was really "Ellie" especially when Candy was Ellie's best friend. Grandma has a lot a talent in fact finding and interfering but she should have learned to keep quiet when it came to my girl-friends.  
  
When I started bringing girls home to meet Grandma I was fourteen. I knew the fact that I was only fourteen ruffled her feathers enough let alone the fact that some of them were quite "well developed" for their age.   
  
"You mind yourself Scott Tracy." she'd say pointing her wooden spoon in my direction. "With those looks of yours those girls are like metal to a magnet. Don't you go thinking of trying anything I'll not be pleased about."  
  
Well I'd been thinking about trying it I had to admit. The things Dad told me were physically going to happen to me had happened and I felt up to the task but the fact that Grandma might find out held me in check for nearly two years.  
  
Then I met Adelaide Reynolds. Addy; the girl who turned me into a man.  
  
She came to our school as a transfer from Ohio. She was gorgeous. I remember staring at her blonde hair and blue eyes in history and dreaming about a first time with someone who looked like her so much so that I wasn't going to be able to get up at the end of the history class without disgracing myself. I ended up getting into big trouble with my Teacher for not paying attention in class.   
  
I felt like saying "Miss Hind. I'm thinking about making my own American history. Don't expect me to care about the Boston Tea Party when I'm planning my own."  
  
Well Addy was the one I chose and I set about making sure that she didn't want to say no when the time eventually came. I was fortunate that she seemed to like me without too much effort on my part so I was part of the way there. After all I was Scott Tracy, tall, blue-eyed, dark-haired, High School football quarterback, a man of the world. That's how I portrayed myself back then. Most of it was true. I just wasn't a man of the world yet, but I was working on it. Boy was I working on it.  
  
Over the next few weeks we spent a lot of free time together mainly in recesses. It grew to the point that she would be waiting for me at the cafeteria each lunch hour and we would share lunch together. One day I even grew bold enough to take her hand across the table. I imagined this was what you needed to do if you wanted a woman the way I wanted Addy. You could see her eyes shine and her whole face light up after I did that. I was relieved. I hadn't been sure if it was the right thing to do.  
  
You see whilst I witnessed the act between my parents when I was younger, I'd never witnessed what had essentially led up to it. How did you in reality persuade someone to do that with you of their own free will? Now it's pretty darned obvious I couldn't ask my Grandma that question and imagine what would have happened to me if I'd have asked Dad's advice!   
  
Well the next step was asking her if she'd like to catch the bus home with me to do some homework. That would get her into my room at least. I offered for Grandma to drive her home after we had finished studying. She didn't look too keen about coming over to our house.  
  
"Why can't we go to where the other kids hang out?" she asked. "They all do their homework there."   
  
I had to lower my head and admit to her that Dad expected me to come straight home from school when I didn't have football practice because I had to help my little brothers with their homework. She didn't look like she believed me so I then had to go through the pain of explaining to her that we didn't have a mother and all the responsibility associated with being the eldest son and being totally answerable for my brothers until Dad got home.  
  
"OK then I'll come." she said and smiled at me. I smiled back; totally smitten. All I saw was that face, those eyes, that body.  
  
I took her hand that day and felt a familiar tingling I'd rather not talk about. Yes Sir, I decided there and then. She was going to be the one. I make a lot of on-the-spot decisions these days in International Rescue but the decision about Addy...it was the easiest and most spontaneous decision of my life.   
  
I swear from the very first day Addy walked through the front door of our house Grandma knew I'd picked her out for that purpose.   
  
Grandma didn't approve of Addy at all even though she never let her see it. The look she gave me though said it all. So it took me quite a while and a heck of a lot of planning to get myself into the position of safety I needed to experience "life" as my father had demonstrated to me as a child.  
  
I had it all planned. It was a Wednesday in the middle of May. Everyone had discussed their afternoon plans with Dad at the breakfast table. Dad always insisted on that so he knew where we were all supposed to be after school.  
  
Virgil had football practice. John was going to be at the library doing astronomy research. Alan and Gordon had plans to make a new model plane. I knew they always did that under the big tree outside. It was all falling into place. The only person I needed to get out of the way now was Grandma. You may as well ask for the whole of the US army to be stood down as to try to get rid of Grandma of course. The only way was to target one of her few weaknesses. I knew she hated climbing stairs and when she asked me to take the laundry upstairs that morning complaining that her knee was playing up I was extremely sympathetic.  
  
"You need to rest up Grandma." I said but my tone must have had a little too much concern to it as I saw her frown suspiciously. Luckily for me Dad suggested that she would be better off staying downstairs most of the day and when she agreed it was a good idea that was it for me.  
  
I had a clear shot at losing my virginity without being interrupted. Of course it would all hinge on whether Addy agreed. I was pretty sure she would. Things had been starting to hot up a bit between us during our "study sessions".   
  
When you are young, occasions such as this are rather momentous and I could hardly concentrate during my classes at the reality that it might actually happen. Today would give me one up on my brothers. I'd be able to say the old line "Been there, done that" as I did with so many other things. But this … this was the ultimate. I would be like my Father, no longer a little boy in the eyes of the world.   
  
I asked Addy if she was planning to come over that afternoon. Neither of us had any homework but our "study" sessions had become very non-academic the last few times anyhow.  
  
"What are we studying?" she asked mischievously.  
  
"Biology." I winked.  
  
"I don't even take Biology." she laughed, clearly understanding my meaning.  
  
"Neither do I." I replied. "But studying it would be another step in our education Addy."  
  
She looked about her and then said quietly.  
  
"Do you have any protection?"  
  
It was like she had blown me out of the water. She was rather willing it seemed.   
  
"Have you done this before?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah, haven't you?" she asked in return.  
  
Well what could I say? I had to keep my reputation intact.  
  
"Of course I have." I lied.  
  
"So do you have any?" she continued.  
  
"Any what?"  
  
"Any protection?"  
  
"Of course I do." I said.  
  
I'd forgotten all about the protection side of things. Damn it! I knew I had to use it. Dad had made that point to me over and over.  
  
"Protect yourself. Protect the girl." ever since I had been thirteen. I hadn't had the need for it until now and now that I did, I didn't have any. I knew Dad wouldn't have any so I couldn't search his room when I got home. There was no way I was going even going to ask Virgil. He was only fourteen. Oh well. I'd just have to go to the drug store myself in free class and buy some.  
  
Well going to that drug store that day was more stressful than any rescue I've ever been involved in. I didn't go to drugstores and didn't even know where to look for what I needed. Worse still was the fact that the drug store was owned by Candice Paterson's father and he was the one serving at the counter. Remember Candice ? She was one of my ex-girlfriends; the one Grandma mistook for Ellie all the time.   
  
"How are you Scott?" he said frowning disapprovingly at what lay before him on the counter as I searched my pocket for money.  
  
"I'm fine thank you Sir." I replied trying not to look embarrassed.  
  
"You don't see Candice these days do you?" he enquired as he rang the sale though. I knew what he was getting at when he asked that question.  
  
"No Sir." I replied. "Candy is seeing my friend Rob now."  
  
"Can't say as I know him." he mused. He held out the package. "Well then, there you are. Tell your Grandmother I'll see her next week. That new drug I ordered for her should be in for her to collect by then."  
  
My Grandmother? Oh no. I hope he didn't intend to discuss what I'd purchased with her. My life wouldn't be worth living if he did.  
  
Anyway the big moment came when we arrived home from school and there was Grandma sitting in front of the television peeling vegetables.  
  
"Hello darling." she said to me as I kissed her cheek. Her voice dropped a little when she saw Addy.   
  
"Hello Adelaide dear." she said. Her voice wasn't disapproving. It was …oh hell what's the point in pretending here. Grandma's tone was down right disapproving. Grandma knew my plans for that afternoon I swear.   
  
"Hello Mrs. Tracy." she replied.  
  
"How's your knee Grandma?" I asked. "I'm pleased to see you're resting it like Dad suggested."  
  
"My knee is fine thank-you." she nodded. "Do either of you want anything to eat?"   
  
"No ma'am we'll be studying upstairs." I said. "I'll come down and get something if we need it. Err…is anyone home?" I asked trying to sound as innocent as possible.  
  
Unfortunately I didn't see her eyes narrow suspiciously but she came out with it anyway as directly as you please.  
  
"What do you need to know that for?"  
  
Boy life was tough sometimes with Grandma needing to know everything.  
  
I shrugged. "No reason Grandma. I'm just supposed to know where everyone is in case Dad calls."  
  
And with that I took my intended to my room.   
  
Now I'd rather leave the story there and tell you that my first time was a powerful, wonderful and earth-shattering experience and normally I would. I can probably lie to you and get away with it but the longer I've gone on talking about Grandma, the more I know she would have taken great delight in telling you the truth about that afternoon.  
  
I know she knows and I bet she's told you.  
  
I've died inside about this for years because I know she knows.  
  
How did she know? Two pieces of chocolate cake and orange juice near the scene of the crime that's how. Those sorts of things don't miraculously appear in your bedroom do they? Someone had to put them there and I knew that someone had to be Grandma. I definitely knew by the way she looked at me for nearly six months afterwards.   
  
She has this amused smile which tells you in no uncertain way that she has a secret that will humiliate you for the rest of your life if you're not careful. She particularly gives her smile to Dad and to Virgil, goodness knows what they've done to have the honour, and also to me.   
  
I guess I'd better give you my side of the story. It might save me a bit of face I guess.  
  
In our home Dad had an open door policy. You could close your door for privacy all right but you weren't allowed to lock it. The only door you were allowed to lock was the bathroom for obvious reasons.  
  
Naturally the type of thing I had planned for that afternoon could only be attempted in a room where there was a lock. This meant tying up the bathroom and with two little brothers who drank orange juice like there was going to be a shortage any minute, this ended up presenting a big problem.  
  
I'd finally ended up with Addy in the bathroom and we were getting to the business end of things when Gordon pounded on the door.  
  
"I'm in here." I replied placing a warning finger against Addy's lips. "I'll be a while."  
  
"But Scott. I have to go." he complained.  
  
"Use Dad's bathroom then." I called back.  
  
"You know I'm not allowed."  
  
"Dad's not gonna find out." I said becoming more annoyed by the minute.  
  
"He did last time." came the annoying little voice.  
  
"Well come back in ten minutes." I snapped.  
  
"Scott! I'll explode before then."  
  
"You'll have to wait your turn Gordon." I said.   
  
He went away after that and I thought he'd gone to use Dad's bathroom. Unfortunately for me he'd gone to complain to Grandma but at that point in time with Addy in that particular state of undress, I really didn't give a damn what he was doing.  
  
With the interruption, things went back to square one again with me but one look at Addy like that, well it didn't take me long to find the fortitude to continue.  
  
The pivotal moment came and I needed to organise the protection…quickly.  
  
Now I knew I had paid attention when Dad explained it to me and it all looked rather simple to use particularly to someone who was a whiz at physics and mathematics as I was. The truth of the matter was that this was a damn big event in my life and I hadn't done any "homework" on how to use it. Let's leave it by saying that by the time I'd worked out how to get it on, the reason I needed to put it on had well and truly "escaped me". I have never experienced such embarrassment in my life and at the end of it all I walked out of the bathroom to find the cake and the juice in my room near the door to the bathroom. Grandma!  
  
Oh God. I pride myself on being quite a reasonable partner these days but while Grandma lives and breathes I'll always be reminded of that day with Addy and the fact that Grandma must have heard the whole damned embarrassing thing and has never said a word about it to me.  
  
I tell you her silence can be more damaging sometimes than her tongue and this was definitely one of those times.   
  
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THE AIR FORCE  
  
Once I finished College I decided to join the Air Force, a decision I made in my own right after a lot of thinking and consideration. Contrary to what people said in the academy, Dad didn't push me into the Forces. Naturally he was proud and happy that I had selected the Air Force as a career and offered to put in a good word for me when required. I nearly exploded when he said that. I was twenty-one with College behind me. I didn't need Dad's "good word" to make it anywhere. I went to say something but held my tongue at Grandma's warning look.   
  
Nevertheless I was emphatic that I would make it on my own and I told Grandma in no uncertain terms that when I did make it I was going to make it bigger and better than Dad ever did. She had smiled and said.  
  
"Of course you will sweetie."  
  
Somehow I felt she wasn't taking me seriously. But I was serious. I could pilot before I'd even joined up so I was already a mile in front of most of the recruits who started basic training with me and I knew it. I had a bit of an attitude about me back then, courtesy of my Father. I knew I was good because he'd told me so and Dad didn't say you were good at anything unless it was absolutely true. So I knew and therefore expected to be a force to be reckoned with in the Air Force. What an eye-opener I got in my first year in the Academy. It was worse than one of Grandma's "reality checks".  
  
I haven't mentioned these yet have I? Well you can guarantee every one of my brothers has had been on the receiving end of one of those from Grandma in their time. Grandma loved us dearly and left the disciplining to Dad but every now and then it all got too much for her. It was then she would storm in to the room like a tribe of wild Indians and say "young man you need a reality check and I'm about to give it to you."   
  
These were words we all grew to dread.  
  
It didn't matter what the situation was; if you had gotten yourself into trouble over something major, she literally held you by the scruff of the neck and lectured you over and over again until you'd rather die than listen to her any more. It was worse than any Chinese water torture could ever be and definitely worse than any pain Dad's canings could inflict. So keep that thought in your mind and think about how bad it was for me in the Forces that first year.  
  
My attitude was taken by the scruff of the neck by my Commander and I was lectured over and over that I wasn't as good as I thought I was. Sure I was the son of Jeff Tracy and I knew how to fly but I still had the hardest part to come.   
  
Living up to the high expectation that went with the Tracy surname. That was hard all right. Most of the Commanders I served under remembered and respected my Father but it didn't stop them continually trying to find fault with me. They viewed me as the cocky eldest son. One mistake and they were on to me. My first year was nothing but totally miserable.  
  
I settled down after the reality check and began to show the same skills, abilities and leadership qualities as my Father. Once I had a bit of experience they could not and did not find the faults in me that they sought. It was then I began to excel. My attitude was gone and my mind was on the job. I quickly began to go through the ranks as Dad had done.  
  
Many of the other guys in my squadron hated me because I was Jeff Tracy's son particularly when I was decorated for valour in the field.  
  
However, while they were seething with discontent I was viewing it all with suspicion Every decoration I received in the service seemed to occur after my Father's name was mentioned somewhere or after he had attended the base for an official function or simply to come to watch me fly. I started to wonder if Dad was interfering at a high level.  
  
I came close to accusing him of it but as usual Grandma has a knack of keeping you out of trouble by being in the wrong place at the right time. That day I was sure she must have been telepathic. I had been chewing myself up inside about a recent decoration I'd received for valour. My Commander who served under Dad said he had discussed that mission with my Father and Dad had said I fully deserved the honour for an exceptional effort in the field.  
  
I was furious and in the end it all became too much for me. I contacted Dad at home. I was ready to have it out with him.But I didn't get Dad.  
  
Grandma took the call.  
  
"Where's Dad?" I'd snapped none too politely forgetting who I was talking to over the televid.  
  
She rolled her eyes at me.  
  
"Your Father isn't here. Scott Tracy look at your face. Frowning like the world's going to end. What's the problem to make you look at me like that then?"  
  
  
  
"Dad's my problem." I began angrily.  
  
"I knew you were going to say that" she mused and then continued.  
  
"I guess then that what happened at the base last month has affected you sweetie?"  
  
I looked confused. What had happened? I tried not to let on I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. She shook her head and continued.  
  
  
  
"Why your Father refuses to interfere with matters concerning you boys is beyond me sometimes. I don't know why he wouldn't give you a helping hand towards a promotion when he could. I can't believe that when that Commander of yours asked his opinion of your flying abilities he told him to decide for himself. I'm sorry sweetie if that's cost you anything."  
  
"No Grandma. It's OK" I replied. "Dad's never been anything but straight down the line with me."  
  
"Yes he has." she replied looking at me knowingly. "Anything else now?"  
  
"No ma'am." I replied and ended the call. As I returned to the base I shook my head at how that call had exonerated Dad. She knew I was going to say something. I swear she knew.   
  
But that's my Grandma. One step in front of everyone all of the time.  
  
My time in the forces was also a time when I found personal and physical fulfilment.  
  
Adelaide and I met up again in Nevada. It was a case of we must have been meant for each other I think. Fate had destined us to meet that day in High School. Fate had brought her to my home for the biggest and most embarrassing moment of my life, and now fate brought her back to me in the form of a legal secretary working for her Father's huge engineering firm in Nevada.   
  
We re-kindled our relationship one cold Friday evening when I'd gone into town to have a few beers with a couple of my buddies. When she walked in with her friends I had to pinch myself a few times to believe that it was really her. I couldn't believe my luck. Adelaide Reynolds; still blonde, still beautiful, still captivating, and after a few hours of Tracy charm…still willing to be mine.  
  
She told me she wanted to resume the relationship as I lay with her that night after making long and passionate love. That night had been a bit more successful for me than the first attempt thank goodness although she didn't let me live that down for a long time.  
  
I knew she was impressed that I was now in the Air Force and flying through the ranks and it reminded me of what Dad had told me about his chance meeting with Mom in London.  
  
Dad had said he met my mother when he was on the verge of leaving the Air Force to join NASA. He said that he always felt my mother had been impressed with him being in the Forces and that had been the catalyst which resulted in her coming to the States to be with him.  
  
Grandma gave us a totally different viewpoint of course. She said Dad's description of things sounded like an advertisement to get young men to join the Air Force. Grandma then cleared things up by saying Dad had been smitten with Mom from the moment he saw her and Mom had been pretty much the same. From what Grandma said Dad could have been penniless and Mom wouldn't have cared and she could have come over from England armed with a machine gun and he wouldn't have noticed. All they had ever seen was each other.   
  
"Scott your Father is living proof of where there's love in a man's heart nothing stands in the way." she said with wisdom. "And as for a woman loving a man...well your Mother leaving her family and country is evidence enough of that."  
  
I wondered for a while whether or not history looked like repeating itself. Fate had destined Mom and Dad to meet. Surely only fate could bring Addy back to me in Nevada.  
  
After a few months, I asked Addy to move in with me. I didn't feel the love Grandma said Dad had felt for Mom but we still had a good relationship all the same.   
  
I kept my relationship with Addy and the fact that we were living together very close to my chest. I didn't tell Dad or any of my brothers. I didn't even tell Grandma at least not for a while. I had only ever had one close relationship with a woman in my life and that had been with my Mother. I had loved her unconditionally. I kept telling myself that I would grow to love Addy unconditionally too and the fact that I hadn't yet had to be my fault. I guessed I needed time.  
  
  
  
Addy didn't seem to mind the way things were. We had a physical chemistry between us that was dynamite and the loving was satisfying and good. She was materialistic and I could afford to give her the things she wanted to be happy. We laughed often and went everywhere together. But I knew something was missing from the home we had made together.  
  
Love.  
  
I loved her in the physical way. I couldn't live without her emotionally either. I just didn't love her. What I felt for Addy was not the love I knew my Father had felt for my mother. The love I witnessed being expressed in one way or another every day of their married lives. Little things Dad used to do like steal a kiss from Mom when she was trying to cook dinner or tuck a stray curl behind her ear as he spoke to her. I had the best possible role-model on how to love a woman properly yet I did none of that,  
  
It was then a chance telephone call from Grandma made me realise what stopped me from loving Adelaide Reynolds.  
  
Grandma telephoned me often and our discussions went backwards and forwards from how my youngest brothers were coping with High School, to Dad's business, to Kyrano's new experiments in the kitchen, to me.  
  
Grandma was now on a mission of procreation. She wanted a great grandchild and it was me she was after to do the honours.  
  
"You should be finding yourself a pretty little girl and raising your own sons." she told me. I knew I was nearly twenty-eight, two years older than Dad had been when I was born.  
  
"Grandma the last thing I need in my life is changing diapers and feeding bottles to babies again." I told her. Despite how the years had passed it only seemed like yesterday that I was feeding Alan his bottle the night my Dad broke down from the stress of Mom dying and his failing business.   
  
Grandma didn't look convinced. I decided to come clean.  
  
"I'll only tell you because I know I can trust you. I'm taking things slowly and don't want Dad or the guys to know yet. Grandma I am seeing someone. I've been seeing her for a while. It's pretty serious."  
  
Well if Grandma was able to knit I was sure she would have started on the baby booties while we were still talking on the televid.  
  
"That's wonderful news!" she beamed. "Before long you'll be talking marriage and babies young man."  
  
I smiled at her. She was so precious this Grandma of mine. So pre-occupied with the Tracy family, preserving it, nurturing it and now expanding it.  
  
She frowned at me. "What's the smile for? I didn't say anything funny."  
  
"Oh Grandma." I laughed. "Marriage and babies aren't on the horizon for me yet."  
  
"But you do have the commitment of this little girl don't you?" she asked.  
  
"I…I don't know." I stammered being taken completely off guard by her directness.  
  
"Well without commitment young man there can never be real love." she sniffed. "It was like your Grandfather and I. I courted Grant for years and really never thought I loved him. I went everywhere with him and did everything with him but I never admitted I loved him. It was only when he proposed that I realised I did."   
  
She knew I understood her meaning. She was giving me that knowing look of hers that said, "I know you are searching within yourself for an answer Scott."  
  
She was telling me to propose to Addy.  
  
No Grandma I couldn't. Not yet.  
  
Then I got Dad's call  
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
The day Dad contacted me to discuss International Rescue was a day I'll never forget. My Father was asking me to resign from the Air Force and work for him.  
  
He was asking for me to become his Chief Pilot, second in Command and lead my brothers in a top-secret, high level rescue organisation that worked for no Government in particular. A rescue organisation that had its headquarters at our Island home.   
  
A rescue organisation funded purely by him and the profits of Tracy Industries. It was to be Jeff Tracy's way of saying thank-you to the world that had given him so much material gain. It was his dream. His vision.  
  
My spare time was to be spent designing aircraft for the business. I was required to visit New York periodically to do the paperwork. I could have any luxury I wanted. There had to be catch and as always there was. Dad laid it down the line up front.  
  
Catch Number 1 - I had to move home to Tracy Island.  
  
Catch Number 2 - International Rescue was to be the Tracy family only plus the Kyrano family and his young Engineer Brains.  
  
"But Dad." I breathed. "I'm seeing someone."  
  
Dad re-iterated his previous statement. "It had to be to be the Tracy family only."  
  
Dad became uncomfortable about my silence as I stood there stunned on the other end of the televid. He was asking me to give up Addy.  
  
"Scott." he said. "I will of course give you the opportunity to pursue your relationship off base."  
  
I didn't want that. How could he think that could be acceptable to me after sharing the same bed as Adelaide Reynolds for four years?  
  
Naturally as the eldest I felt compelled to agree to his offer. I resigned from the Air Force as he had directed and prepared myself to deal with my situation with Adelaide.  
  
Grandma's words rang true in my head.   
  
"Without commitment young man there can never be real love."  
  
With this in my heart I opened the special box my Father had given me seven years before. I looked at it and remembered her wearing it. I remembered Dad bringing it back from the hospital the night she died. Mom's engagement ring.  
  
I was going to ask Addy to marry me and give her the token of love that was so revered by my Father.  
  
Addy would be family then. She could come to Tracy Island as my wife.   
  
If only it had been that simple.  
  
I can't talk about this to anyone and I've only ever talked to Grandma about it once and that was after a few too many Scotches which made me feel sorry for myself. So I'll tell you this and make it short because it cuts me to the core to even think about it.  
  
In summary Addy said no. I try not to think about the callous and uncaring way she said it but if I have to tell you the truth and I have been, that woman said no to me without taking an inward breath.  
  
  
  
No to my proposal offered from the bottom of my heart.   
  
No to being my lifelong companion as Dad had been to Mom.   
  
No loving to my body as I had witnessed Dad with Mom.  
  
No to bearing my children. My mom had died bearing Dad's last child.  
  
What Mom and Dad had was love. What Addy and I had was only passion.  
  
I knew that now.  
  
I returned to Tracy Island alone. I am still alone but I am looking. One day I hope I can find the woman who will love me as my mother loved my father and I will experience the same joy as they did for that short time they were together.  
  
Please… I can't talk about this any longer.   
  
Today is supposed to be a happy one for Grandma and about her, not me. I'd best get back to the party and the dressing down I know I'm going to get.  
  
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FINAL THOUGHTS FROM THE APPRENTICE.  
  
I've grabbed a drink and a handful of peanuts off the tray from Kyrano and feel much better after telling you my side of the story. The party's in full swing and it's great to have our whole family together to share such a happy and momentous milestone in Grandma's life.  
  
I'm looking around the room. There's Virg sifting through music. John and Gordon are shooting some pool cracking jokes about their lack of talent . Kyrano is busy serving drinks. Naturally my youngest brother still isn't here but I've no doubt he and Tin-Tin will be finished doing whatever they're doing shortly and will soon join us. But look at Grandma.  
  
Grandma is in her element at the moment tearing strips off my Father.  
  
Boy is he ever copping it over there. Look at her go off. I swear she hasn't taken a breath for nearly ten minutes. Poor Dad; but then he wanted to give her the party. He said he was going to make a speech at the end of the night and give her something special he's wanted to give her for over twenty years. He hasn't said too much about what it is but if she doesn't let up soon I think it will be a sedative to keep her quiet.  
  
You know if I had to sum my Grandma I would probably only need to say a few words.  
  
Loving.   
  
Spirited.  
  
Determined.  
  
Righteous  
  
  
  
That just about sums her up I reckon.  
  
Great. Looks like Virg is getting ready to play some of his famous rag-time on the piano. The party will really get going then. Grandma's had a few scotches so we'd better prepare ourselves for anything. Last time she was like this she did a mean Mexican hat dance, That sure was a night to remember. She couldn't walk for days.  
  
Oh come on Grandma leave Dad alone. How much more can he take? It's starting to look like one of your reality checks!  
  
Uh oh. She's spotted me and she's on her way over.  
  
"So there you are!" she's exclaiming.  
  
"Yes ma'am." I reply.  
  
"Well?" she's asking.  
  
"Well what?" I reply.  
  
"Well what have you got to say for yourself?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know what I mean!"   
  
"Ummm…Happy birthday?" I ask innocently.  
  
"I'll give you happy birthday young man. Scott Tracy ! How dare you look me in the face all these weeks and lie to your Grandma! You're a disgrace to this family."  
  
Her face gives her away. She's not really cross. She's delighted.  
  
"I know I'm a disgrace Grandma." I smile and put down my glass. "You taught me everything I know."   
  
She looks at me with those merry blue eyes. They're sparkling. I don't know whether it's the joy she feels or the Scotch. Most likely the scotch. Kyrano said she's had four already.   
  
I'd love to say "Josie Tracy you're a disgrace to this family for setting such a bad example for your Grandsons." But I think I'll let her be. I've got something more important to say to this special old lady right now.  
  
I wrap my arms around her and thank God for the gift of this wonderful woman.   
  
Her arms wrap around me in return as I say from the bottom of my heart.  
  
"I love you Grandma."  
  
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Author's Note - I hope you have enjoyed this Chapter.I have.  
  
NEXT CHAPTER - CHAPTER 7 - PART TWO - LUCY'S ARTIST SPEAKS  
  
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	11. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CON...

Author's Note - Thank you for the enthusiasm for the Tracy Grandsons telling their stories about Josie. Scott - a truly amazing man and a fine Grandson. Virgil? Well we know what Josie thinks but what does he think about Josie? mcj  
  
CHAPTER 7  
  
FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL  
  
PART 2 - LUCY'S ARTIST SPEAKS  
  
I'm pretending to look for music at the moment and that's taking the pressure off me a bit thank goodness. Grandma doesn't look too happy about things over there and I'm scared to death she's going to zero in on me because of it. She hates surprise parties almost as much as she hates the fact that Dad thinks she isn't astute enough to find out about them.   
  
Naturally Grandma's known for ages but I'm worried sick that she will be unhappy with me for not confiding in her. She expects me to do that and I usually do everything Grandma expects.   
  
You see, I've got a very good reason to worry if I upset my Grandma. Unfortunately for me, Grandma has a very big secret about me which she's never told Dad about and I know only too well that if I push her too far, one day she's going to let the "cat out of the bag." If that ever happens let me say right here and now; this "cat" is out of here! Even though I'm twenty six years old now, Dad will still kill me if he finds out  
  
But Grandma, I did try to tell you about the surprise party. I tried to tell you last night when I was playing the piano after Dinner but let's face it; there's only so much hinting a man can do with Dad in the room. You know that. You saw how Dad looked at me when I said, "Finally coming in to party with me Grandma?"  
  
He gave me that "look" of his which I recognised immediately and knew meant I had to keep quiet. Honest Grandma, I couldn't say anything further once he'd looked at me like that. I'm always watching out for the looks Dad gives me. You know that he gives them to me all the time.  
  
It's hard for me sometimes. I hate it when Dad gets upset especially when I am who I am and he knows I can't really help it.  
  
You see, my Dad has got one great big problem with me. A problem that bothers him a great deal and it's one I can't do a thing about.  
  
I look too much like my Mother.  
  
I act too much like my Mother.  
  
My talents are too much like my Mother's.  
  
My mannerisms are the same as my Mother's.  
  
I remind Dad every minute of every day of my Mother.  
  
And Grandma, whether we like it or not, Dad doesn't want to be reminded about my Mother. He wants to forget about her and he wants us to forget about her too. I know you don't agree with him and have always tried to persuade him otherwise, but he's certainly never going to forget much with me right there under his nose dredging up her memory is he?  
  
No wonder Dad sighs all the time when I play the piano. I guess he remembers how well Mom used to play herself and the fact that she taught me to play when I was a little boy.   
  
No wonder he sighs miserably when I run my hands through my hair when I'm trying to learn a new piano piece or paint the scenery from the balcony. I know Mom did that too but it's truly only force of habit for me. I don't do it intentionally to drag up her memory. I only know she did it Grandma because you asked me to stop doing it one night when Dad became cross with me for what I thought was no reason.  
  
Grandma, as I said to you that night; "I don't think about it. I just do it"  
  
And my Dad hates the fact that I do and hates the memories of Mom that it stirs up when I do it. So I really try hard not to do it.   
  
To tell you the truth I can't ever picture Mom running her hands through her curly hair when she concentrated on something. I do remember my Mom's curls though. They were chestnut in colour; thick and long and beautiful. I loved them. They looked so pretty falling about her face; they always smelled like Lavender and had a reddish tinge about them in the light.   
  
I can understand why Dad gets so upset I suppose. He used to love her curls too. He used to wind them idly around his fingers when they sat together on the couch in the evenings. He'd stare at her lovingly as he did it. He often ran his hands through them when they went outside and stood together out on the porch in the dark as they tried to steal a few moments alone. I used to watch Dad from the window. He would tuck the curls behind her ear and then place his index finger under her chin to tilt it to his. He would tell her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and how much he loved her. Then he would kiss her and run his hands through her hair over and over again. Mom's beautiful hair certainly did a lot for Dad. I'm sure Scott's already filled you in on the nights Dad sent us to bed early. Those nights always seemed to start off with Dad running his hands through Mom's curls outside on the porch.   
  
As for me, I used to bury my head in them when Mom held me and I always felt safe smelling that lavender. Grandma says it used to be a sight; my head lost in a sea of chestnut and my fat little fingers grasping it. She also says there is a photograph Dad took of Mom amd me like that. I've never seen it. Dad keeps all the photographs except one locked away.  
  
But it was the smell of Lavender I loved. Lavender still makes me feel safe and still makes me think of Mom. It makes Dad think of her too. That's why he got rid of Mom's lavender in the garden when she died.   
  
I don't feel too safe at the moment however. Grandma's frowning and looking in my direction. Stop looking at me like that Grandma! This whole thing's Dad's doing not mine!  
  
Speaking of Dad, he's still so devastated about Mom that he can't even look at me without getting himself caught up in knots. He looks at my face and into my eyes and at the colour of my hair and when he does I see him swallow and his eyes well up or grow contemplative. When that happens I know what he's thinking. He's thinking about Mom and he's missing Mom and he's quite frankly wishing I didn't look quite so much like her right at that particular moment. Then he turns away or buries himself in paperwork and doesn't speak to anyone for hours.  
  
I know when he turns away Grandma; he's not turning away from me. You keep reminding me of that and I'm really glad you do. Without your reassurance all these years I don't know how I could have coped with my Father's reaction to me. Without you there to keep Dad on track and in perspective, I don't know how he could have coped with his reactions to me either.  
  
That's why I'm glad you're having this party.   
  
Dad has asked me to play the piano for you tonight; and he never does that. He even asked me to compose something special for you which surprised, but nevertheless completely delighted me. Usually Dad tells me to keep my pieces to myself as you and I well know. I've still got that beautiful ballad I wrote for Mom amongst the music I'm sorting at the moment and I really wish I could sing it for him. The words are the words I know he has in his heart for Mom. They would make him cry but he really needs to cry. The words make me cry when I think about them but they make me feel better about what happened to Mom. I know he'd feel better too if he heard them.  
  
Maybe...just maybe... if he's off his guard tonight I could risk singing it.  
  
No. Dad's never off his guard when it comes to his feelings for Mom. I don't want to risk ruining the party. I'd better forget that idea. It's not worth it.  
  
I think you'll like the piece I've written for you though Grandma. I thought of how wonderful you have been to us since Mom died and the things you've done for me as I've grown up and decided you deserved to have a song of gratitude and love written for you. You caught me fine tuning the music for it last night when we talked and somehow I know you know that piece is intended for you.  
  
But you're lucky Grandma, at one point when I was thinking about what to write, I thought of all the dreadful, sneaky, under-handed and terrible things you've done to your poor defenceless Grandsons over the years and actually considered writing a song about your wicked ways. My brothers would have loved it but Dad wouldn't have got the gist of it I'm afraid. He doesn't know half of the outrageous things you've done to us to keep us on track and it's best he doesn't I suppose.  
  
Grandma I know you've been talking about me and my life as some sort of "pay-back" for what has been planned for tonight. I really don't mind if you've talked about me, my singing, my art, my music or my college days or my even life here in International Rescue although that's supposed to be a secret you know.   
  
What I am worried about is that you've finally decided to "let the cat out of the bag" and I'm now left with no option other than to defend myself to the people you've told.  
  
However Grandma I swear if you tell Dad about me in that car, I'll tell him and everyone else in this house about the secret I've kept about you...and no one, not even you knows I know about it!   
  
Two can play at your game Grandma. ````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````   
  
THE LONG AWAITED SECOND SON  
  
Grandma tells me I made a big impact on the Tracy family when I arrived. We all know that Grandmas always say that type of thing to their grandchildren to make them feel special especially when they are one of five, but my Grandma says she means it.   
  
When I asked her what I had done to earn such a reputation she said that my arrival had finally put my Grandfather in his place. Apparently my Grandpa had been absolutely flabbergasted to hear that my mother had decided to call his second grandson "Virgil" and he had ranted and raved to Grandma that he was going to sort Mom out and have my name changed to something more suitable for a Tracy baby. Grant Tracy was not afraid of offending anyone Grandma said but she dared him to try and confront Mom.  
  
  
  
"That soon sorted him out. " Grandma grinned. "He'd normally tell anyone off who displeased him. Anyone except that mother of yours that is." she said.   
  
"She was one in a million that girl. She had him well and truly bluffed as it was; supporting your Father in his career," she told me. "But as for changing your name, he wasn't game enough to say anything. Not once she looked at him with that determined face of hers and said how much she liked the name Virgil. The look on your Grandfather's face was priceless. He had finally met his match and didn't have a clue what to say. At least your Grandfather was astute; I'll hand him that! He could see that look of your Mothers' and knew damned well she was daring him to say he didn't like your name. In the end he was carrying on like he was the one who suggested it. I laughed my head off. Yes Virgil you made an impact all right."   
  
I nodded at the observation about Mom. Grandpa was a smart man. No one argued with Mom.  
  
But as far as my Father was concerned, I was supposed to have graced this world a good twelve months earlier than I did. I took from that cryptic comment, made again of course by Grandma, that my Father was keener to produce a second son than my mother. I'm sure Mom had her reasons because Mom always had a reason for everything and as I said before, no one argued with her. Grandma said Mom's reason was pure and simple. She could be mighty stubborn when she wanted.  
  
I recall Dad used to say she was stubborn all right and I guess he should know more than anyone. Even I still picture how stubborn she could be. I 'member, sorry recall, when Dad tried to get Mom to agree to buy this great red Ferrari he really, really wanted.   
  
Dad, Scott and I fell in love with that car when we all were out together supposedly looking for new Offices for Dad. Dad wanted Offices near the Airport "for convenience" he said, but by the way he drove intentionally past every sports car showroom along the route we knew he was looking for cars not offices.   
  
I must have been four because Mom was expecting Gordon at the time and she only wanted to go home, have a hot drink and lie down. She didn't want to test drive a sexy looking Ferrari when she was six months pregnant and as she put it "as sexless as it came." I didn't know what that meant but I did know that there was absolutely nothing Dad could say or do to convince her that we should test drive the car of his dreams, let alone consider buying it.  
  
"We don't need a sports car Jeff." I recall her saying. "You're being ridiculous."  
  
I still see Dad frowning and folding his arms. He told her he wasn't being ridiculous. She was just being stubborn and difficult because it suited her. He had worked hard to afford the finer things in life and what was wrong with him now having them? He then made the huge mistake of saying; "You're not thinking straight Lucy. You never do when you're pregnant."   
  
Boy I also still see Mom after he said that. She folded her arms and reminded him in no uncertain terms that she was indeed thinking straight, it was his fault she was in the condition she was in and if she had her way she wouldn't be in it, we didn't need the car and she wasn't changing her mind.   
  
She also reminded him the couch would be a pretty uncomfortable place to spend a cold January evening in Boston if he wasn't careful.   
  
"Unless of course the couch is one of those finer things in life you are looking for Jeff," she had snapped.  
  
So I can imagine that if Mom said no to Dad as strongly as she did that day about the Ferrari, he wouldn't get his way easily if he wanted more Tracy babies either.  
  
Grandma said I sure got that right and wouldn't elaborate any further.   
  
Despite this I was told I was a very long awaited and very much loved baby when I finally did arrive. That has always been reassuring to know because one of my clearest childhood memories was hearing Dad yelling at the top of his voice at Mom six months after Gordon was born about not wanting yet another baby and Mom crying her eyes out and saying how sorry she was about the mistake. That mistake turned out to be my youngest brother Alan and all I can say is Dad had every right to be mad Mom. Alan was one hell of a mistake!   
  
Grandma said Dad had a soft spot for me because I looked so much like my Mom and given how much Dad was smitten with Mom in my memory it must have been one heck of a soft spot.   
  
I guess Grandma's told you about the relationship I developed with both my Dad and my Mom as a little boy. I loved my Father but I worshipped the ground my mother walked on. She was the first thing I looked for in the morning and the last thing I looked for at night. She was always there if I needed a lap to sit on, particularly as Dad's lap was always full of no other than my big and extremely bossy brother Scott.   
  
Scott liked to think he was Dad's favourite and he didn't like it at all when Dad gave me any attention. When Dad did play with me for a while Scott made sure it wasn't for too long.   
  
"You belong to Mommy, "he used to say in no uncertain terms even when he was eight years old. "Daddy belongs to me."  
  
Well I didn't mind most of the time but I did miss playing catch with Dad when Scott said I couldn't play. He never said I couldn't in front of Dad though but I knew I'd better not say so if I knew what was good for me. Dad never thought to ask me thinking I didn't like to play. He put it down to me being artistic like Mom.  
  
But not Grandma. Grandma knew I wanted to play little boy's games especially with my Dad. She was right onto Scott from the moment she arrived for a visit and made very sure that I was included in each and every game of catch when she was around. She always made sure I got the chance to sit on Dad's lap too by pulling Scott onto her own.  
  
"Come over here to Grandma and read to me." she would say. He'd happily take his first grade reader over to her ready to show off. He'd begin to read fluently out of it until he saw me being bounced about by Dad and giggling loudly.  
  
"I don't want to read anymore Grandma." he'd snap and close the book.  
  
"Yes you do young man." Grandma would say.  
  
"No I don't." he'd retort.  
  
"Well you can go to bed then." Mom would say. Mom always seemed to find a new found strength when Grandma was in the house and again, no one, not even Scott, argued with Mom.  
  
"Only if Daddy takes me." Scott would demand.  
  
"Daddy's busy with Virgil." Mom would say firmly. "I'll take you since you can't be agreeable around Grandma."  
  
"Sorry Grandma. I'll read to you some more then." he'd sulk before glaring at me and folding his arms defensively.  
  
"I thought you might." Grandma would grin winking at Mom. Mom's eyes would crinkle in the corners as she laughed at Grandma's devious ways. Grandma says she often thinks about Mom when I laugh. She says my eyes crinkle in the corners too.   
  
  
  
Scott hated Grandma's subtle tactics but knew better than to challenge them after a while. He simply never won with her and gave up trying. I always looked forward to Grandma's visits if only for that reason.   
  
But when the games with Dad were done and he had kissed me and rubbed his unshaven face against my cheek to make me giggle again, it was Mom and her gentle tenderness that I wanted. As bedtime drew near it was Mom's lap I sat on. Mom would stroke my hair and hug me tight. I would fall asleep in her arms feeling warm and safe.  
  
Dad'd then remove me and I knew why.  
  
Despite how tough Scott acted around me, he still wanted his share of the mothering when it came down to it. "Daddy" might have belonged to him but "Mommy" belonged to him too at the end of the day. So in order for him to climb onto Mom's lap for her to caress his curls and hold him close, I had to be carried down the hall and tucked into bed by Dad.  
  
"I love you Daddy." I'd whisper only half awake as he turned to switch off the lamp.  
  
Dad would smile. "Daddy loves you too son." he'd reply.   
  
That was our "real" Dad back then, the Dad who worked hard but who laughed a lot and took the time to play. The Dad who told us he loved us and showed us every chance he could. You know I miss our "real" Dad almost as much as I miss my mother.   
  
He was so different when Mom was alive.   
  
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TALENTS SURFACE  
  
I have always been grateful for the artistic gifts that I have. Grandma says they are a blessing and she wished Scott had been given some of them as well.  
  
I know what she means about him having no gifts. You should hear his singing! We've all heard how terrible that is! But if I joke about that Grandma gets all solemn and says she wasn't referring to his singing. She was wishing he'd been given at least one of my other gifts.   
  
The gift of my art. The gift of my music.   
  
Grandma has some crazy idea that if Scott could paint he'd be able to relieve himself of all the stress and emotion she says is pent up inside him. If Scott even tried to do that he'd paint everything black, that's how uptight he gets! He'd actually get a better result throwing the paint tins at the canvas now that I think about it. He could let off a bit steam that way if painting's what she thinks he needs. Seriously Grandma, I love Scott and despite the fact that he can almost fly jets upside down and do the impossible in Thunderbird One he cannot draw a straight line. And he definitely was not born to paint.  
  
As for the musical side of things! Can you really see my big brother trying to relax behind a piano at the end of a harrowing rescue? The ivory would be missing off the keys! Could you ever realistically ever see him writing music from his heart? Take a moment to think Grandma. This is Scott we're talking about! He's so like Dad that if he even tried to write how he felt in his heart, he'd still have a blank piece of paper at the end of the century.  
  
Its unfortunate Scott can't express himself in the ways that I can. I'm lucky I can play a sad song on my piano when I'm feeling down about something or a happy piece when I'm feeling good. I'm lucky I can paint what I see in my head or what is in front of me because it helps me convey my emotions if the music doesn't help. I'm lucky I can sing and write songs when I've got something on my mind and need to get it out of me.   
  
I'm not like Scott who pretends there's nothing wrong. I'm not like John who bottles everything up inside. I'm not like Gordon who makes a joke of everything. I'm definitely not like Alan who just explodes like a nuclear bomb every chance he gets.   
  
I guess that's another reason why I'm a thorn in Dad's side. I cope with things just like Mom did. Art and music. Singing is another area I dabble in and love.  
  
Grandma says Mom taught me to sing as a result of Scott being his usual uncooperative self. Scott would never let Dad tend to me if Mom was busy and Mom had needed to sing to me instead to keep peace in the house. Whilst I appreciate the fact that I grew and developed my talents because of it, I wondered then and still do now why Dad and Mom just didn't give Scott a good old-fashioned slap to his hind-parts and tell him to settle down.   
  
Grandma also said that she could always tell if Mom was happy or unhappy when she visited by the tunes she played on the piano. Grandma was right. Mom played the saddest music ever during those last few months before she died. I only came to realise recently that this was about the time Dad's business was in trouble and she was unhappy about the unplanned baby.   
  
Mom loved painting too and I used to sit nearby and watch her paint scenes of where she used to live in England. She'd tell me to close my eyes and picture a house or picture a dog or whatever she was painting at the time. She said if you can see strongly something in your mind, you can always recall it and if you can recall it you can paint it.  
  
"And my sweet little Virgil," she'd say. "if you paint it, it's always there and you don't need to recall it."  
  
So you see, I tried to picture things in my head like she did but it took me a while sometimes to recall them. I had to look at things for quite a long time sometimes to get the level of detail I needed to paint what I was seeing.  
  
I guess I was only four then but all of a sudden I was getting into a mighty lot trouble for being rude. I didn't know what being rude meant but Mom said staring at people for ages and upsetting them was what it meant and I'd better stop doing it right now. If I didn't stop Dad was going to have something to say about it.  
  
"Darling stop it!" she'd snap when I looked at her intently with a view of drawing her.  
  
"What mommy?" I'd ask with real confusion. "I'm just looking at how pretty you are."  
  
Recalling the intricacies of her special beauty was extremely hard for a four year old. How did you draw those beautiful curls, pixie nose, deep brown eyes, wide mouth and high cheekbones if you didn't try to memorise them?   
  
"I don't want you staring at me Virgil," she said firmly. "It's not natural."  
  
"But Mommy..." I'd begin.   
  
"Virgil. I mean it. No more staring."  
  
As I said no one argued with Mom but I know I freaked Grandma out when she came to visit with the way I was back then.  
  
As you know I adored Grandma and loved her visits. I decided when the car pulled up in the driveway that I was going to draw her and give her the picture to take home with her when she left at the end of the week.   
  
I knew what Grandma looked like from the pictures we had on the sideboard but I didn't think I got the right impression of her from the pictures. For one thing, in the pictures she didn't smile very much and not only that her hair looked different. In real life her smile was bigger and brighter and merrier than any other smile I knew and her hair was long and pretty even though she rarely left it out. I knew I had to look at her in person if I wanted to paint her and I'd need to look for quite some time.  
  
"Hello young Virgil." she said holding her arms out to me. "Come here and give Grandma Josie that extra special hug she's been wanting."   
  
I loved Grandma more than anything and happily threw myself into those warm outstretched arms. After a while she held me at arms length and said.  
  
"My word you've grown since the last time I saw you young man. You must be almost as tall as your big brother by now."  
  
I looked at her, my eyes memorising her expression. She was lying because her eyes told me. She knew I was a good six inches smaller than Scott.  
  
"And you're turning out every bit as handsome." she added but this time her eyes weren't lying. She had to have meant that.  
  
I continued to smile at her. I liked being called handsome. It made me feel I was like my Dad and nobody usually said that. Everyone always said how much like Mom I was. Being handsome was a good thing I knew because Mom always said Dad was handsome just before she kissed him out on the porch. When she said that to him, her voice was kind of funny... breathless and sounding like she wanted something from him. But then... we know where they ended up after being on the porch don't we Scott?   
  
Still, it pleased me to hear Grandma say that I was handsome too. I wanted to be like Dad more than anything even though I didn't look like him.  
  
I wanted to paint Grandma after lunch so I continued to look at her intensely. She had a dimple on her chin I noticed and her right eyebrow was a little longer than the left. She also had the prettiest dark blue eyes. They were eyes like my Dad's. Next thing I knew Mom was scolding me in a very cross English accent.   
  
"Virgil! I'm telling you right now to stop staring at Grandma."  
  
I was startled from my thoughts by the frustration and irritation in her voice. All of a sudden I couldn't recall anything. Was Grandma's left eyebrow longer or was it the right one?  
  
Grandma looked at me uneasily. You always knew when Grandma wasn't too sure how to take things. She'd close one eye and frown. It was always her left eye. She had it closed now.  
  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Tracy." Mom said. "He's like this all the time now. I don't know what's gotten in to him. I think Scott must have hit him over the head or something."  
  
Now that was offensive Mom! Scott hadn't hit me. If he'd tried, I'd have hit him back. I was only staring because I wanted to paint Grandma and she was one mighty interesting subject.  
  
In the end Grandma started laughing and telling Mom to forget it. Children have phases she said even though it was one heck of a strange phase. But Mom wasn't laughing and her expression made her easy to 'member...err sorry recall. I looked at her cross face and memorised everything in only a few seconds. I decided I'd paint her that day instead of Grandma.   
  
I spent all afternoon drawing in my room. Grandma and Mom had gone out in  
  
the garden and were enjoying a glass of wine together. Dad was sitting with a glass of his own reading an Engineering book. Our Dad never read ordinary books. He always read Engineering books or financial journals. It was his Engineering book that he put down when I came out into the garden to show him my painting.  
  
I asked him if he knew who I had painted as I stood there next to him with my eyes transfixed on his face. He held the paper in his hands and studied it carefully.  
  
Dad always got nervous when we kids showed him our artwork. I can understand why in Scott's case. Scott's artwork was a tragedy; little more than a half-hearted attempt at a few smudges on a page. What can a Father say to that? Son try the Piano? Well we've been down that path with Scott already!  
  
"Aww who needs to paint when they could be riding their bike?" he'd mock when the subject of art was brought up and our paintings were compared. The fact that mine were better clearly irked him. "Anyway who cares about stupid art in the first place!"   
  
But my artwork was from within me and I cared. This first effort of painting my Mom was from within me and I hoped Dad would recognise her.  
  
He did but he didn't sound too convincing when he said.  
  
"It's mommy, looking mighty mad by the look of it."   
  
Dad's eyes searched mine. "Err...that's right isn't it Virgil?" he added.  
  
"What do you mean its Mommy looking mighty mad?" Mom asked with surprise craning her neck suspiciously.  
  
Dad turned the picture around for Mom and Grandma to see. They both looked astonished. Originally Mom didn't believe I'd done it myself and implied Scott had helped me with it. That was a total insult too given what Scott could do or should I say couldn't do. After I insisted I had done it all myself she and Dad exchanged glances. I guessed that the glances meant it was good.  
  
Grandma on the other hand had that calculating look she always gets on her face. The look you know means you have a destiny in that direction.   
  
She gave that look to each of us when our talents surfaced; to Scott when he said he would fly like Dad, to me with this first rudimentary painting of Mom, to Johnny looking at the stars, to Gordon winning his school pool race. She never gave Alan the look. Womanising and fast cars never particularly impressed Grandma. Sorry Al!  
  
Still my talent was recognised that day and Grandma has continued to be a big supporter of my art ever since. To be honest with you it worries me a little that she knows I paint pictures of Mom and store them in the attic. I often panic what will happen if she asks me to show them to Dad.  
  
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A BEWILDERED LITTLE BOY  
  
I have a lot of things trapped inside me that I don't talk about, things that hurt in my stomach and put a lump in my throat if I think about them. One of those things is the death of my mother and the death of my Father as I knew him in my early life.  
  
I'm twenty-six now and I've been around a while and in International Rescue have encountered some pretty harrowing times. But nothing was more harrowing for me than losing both Mom and my happy childhood in the one day.   
  
One minute Mom was all right. She was sitting next to me teaching me to play a new tune on the piano. Then she was frowning and rubbing her back. Then Dad was taking her to the hospital to have our new baby brother. Then Grandma was putting us all in the car to take us to the hospital. Then Dad was crying and telling us that we had to say goodbye to Mom because she was going to heaven. I didn't understand why she wasn't all right any more.  
  
I didn't want Mom to go to heaven and started to cry.   
  
I cried harder when she tried to talk to me and couldn't say very much. I still recall her whispering to me to love Dad for her because I was the one most like her. I still hear the the last words I said to my mother.  
  
"Please 'member me in heaven mommy."   
  
And I smelled the lavender in her hair as I was allowed to hug her one last time.   
  
Umm...excuse me... Sorry... It's still bit raw even after twenty-one years that's all.  
  
I cried alone on my bed in the week that followed Mom's death and Grandma did everything she could to try to make me feel better. She kept trying to get me to eat; Grandma's cure for everything.  
  
Grandma was being very brave and tried not to show she was upset. She spent the days leading up to the funeral cooking and cleaning and making telephone calls for Dad. Dad couldn't do anything. He was an absolute mess. All he did was cry after Mom in his room.  
  
Scott was braver than I was about it. He cried a bit but tried to keep up his "tough kid" image as best he could by biting his lip or going outside to ride his bike. He didn't think we noticed his eyes were all swollen and red when he came back in the house. However the night before Mom's funeral I heard him practicing the reading he was doing at the service in his room. He read the words slowly and carefully. Then there was silence. Then the sound of sobs which wrenched from his heart.  
  
"Please come back Mommy." came the words he muffled into his bed quilt so that no one would hear him. "I don't want you to leave Daddy and me alone. I love you."  
  
The funeral was the most horrible experience of my life and I shrivel inside every time I think about it. I cried myself into a state of silent exhaustion that afternoon. Dad hugged Scott close to him and held John in his arms. The three of them cried hard together at the church and harder at the cemetery. I waited for Dad to call me over to him and hug me too.   
  
But he didn't and I've never forgotten it. He left me to stand next to Grandma by myself. Grandma took my hand and squeezed it tight. She's never forgotten Dad did that to me either.  
  
In the weeks that followed Dad took a lot of time to try to comfort my brothers.   
  
Scott anxiously followed him everywhere; terrified he was going to die too. Dad found the time to reassure him and make him feel better. Scott hugged him and Dad hugged him back.  
  
Johnny kept asking where Mom was over and over and that upset Dad. He took the time to sit John on his lap, hold him close and then tried to explain what happened to Mom in a way he understood. John fell asleep on Dad's lap and Dad buried his face in his blonde head and cried.  
  
The only word Gordon knew clearly was "Mom" and he cried in his cot calling for her over and over again. Dad made the time to pick him up and clasp him to his chest. He tried to teach him to say "Dad" through his tears. My red haired baby brother simply grinned at him and continued to babble for "Mom."  
  
He didn't know how to care for a newborn baby by himself but he still got up in the middle of night and fed and rocked Alan the way he thought Mom would have done it. When Alan finally went to sleep he took the time to sit alone in Mom's rocking chair to stroke his little head and face just like Mom used to do.  
  
But despite the fact that I loved my Dad more than anything in the world and just as much as my brothers, he didn't want to find the time to comfort me. He looked at me when I deliberately put myself where he could see me, desperately hoping it was my turn to be held, and his eyes would fill up. He would start to cry and walk away. It shattered me.  
  
I didn't understand why my Dad didn't love me any more. I didn't make Mom go away.   
  
Did I?  
  
I didn't say anything to anyone after that and I didn't cry any more either. I decided I would try to play the piano again and pretend Mom was still there beside me. If Dad didn't love me anymore, maybe I could imagine Mom still did and then this big lump I had in my throat might go away for a while.  
  
I tried to play the piece she was teaching me the day she died. I stumbled with a few of the notes but surprisingly recalled most of it. I was just starting to feel better about things when Dad wrenched me from the piano stool and slammed down the piano lid so loudly Grandma came in from the kitchen to see what had happened.  
  
"I won't have any more of that rubbish in this house." he said and his voice was a mixture of anger and anguish. "Do you understand me Virgil?"   
  
I stood there in front of him still in shock but trying not to cry. I looked up at him with my brown eyes brimming and nodded my head in silence.   
  
"Now go to your room. I don't want to see your face until suppertime." he snapped in a tone I had never heard him use before.   
  
Those few words said it all. "Your face." He didn't want to look at my face, as it was the face of my mother.  
  
As I obeyed him I saw Grandma glaring at Dad. She didn't say anything which was surprising, but I didn't care what anyone said or did. I was devastated. I'd lost everything now. My Mom was gone, my Dad didn't love me and I wasn't allowed to play the piano anymore either.   
  
You see I find all of this most unsettling as I think about it and unlike Scott I need to talk about it in greater depth in order to deal with it. There I go again, looking at the greater depth of everything. I'll always be first and fore mostly an Artist no matter what. It beats me how I ended up happy as a Pilot.   
  
Luckily I had Grandma. She was really good to me back then, a confused five year old who didn't understand what he had done to his Father. The night Dad banned the piano I woke up and went downstairs in the darkness. I sat back on the piano stool alone and folded my hands in my lap. I shut my eyes and tried to picture Mom's arms around me. I missed her so much and no one seemed to care that I was hurting as much as everyone else was. It was there that Grandma found me. It was there I broke down and confided in her that I thought my Daddy didn't love me anymore.   
  
Grandma took me into bed with her and lay down and motioned me into her arms. I looked up at her face in the night-light as she smoothed my hair with her fingers. She assured me over and over again that Dad did love me. "Daddy just has a problem dealing with things at the moment." she said reassuringly. "Don't cry little one. You can't help looking like your mommy."  
  
Grandma didn't smell like lavender but it didn't matter to me that night. I fell asleep feeling as much reassurance as if I were holding Mom's curls in my hand and nestling my head in her neck. I believed so much in my Grandma. I still do.   
  
Well Grandma I look at things now and say this. Dad still has the problem with my looks doesn't he? Even after all these years.  
  
I had a terrible void in my life not being allowed to pay the piano. I loved music very much and simply wanted to hear it again and be happy. So I made my own happiness by humming little tunes I knew. I wasn't brave enough to try to sing anything in case Dad heard me but humming was enough to begin with. I soon started to think up my own tunes and lay on my bed thinking of words that suited them. I had lots of ideas but I had one very big insurmountable problem.   
  
I couldn't write fast enough to get the words down on paper. I was only in the first grade.  
  
I asked Grandma if she would write the words down for me and she agreed to do so. After a while to my surprise and hers I found I had written several sweet little songs which showed the depth of my feelings for my Mother. When Dad was outside or away on business Grandma would ask me to sing them for her and at the end of one of those simple little songs I would notice her eyes were filled with tears.  
  
"That's beautiful sweetie," she'd say. "Your Mother would have liked that one."   
  
"I wish Daddy would let me sing it for him." I recall saying. "He loved Mommy nearly as much as I did."  
  
"I know sweetie but I don't think its wise." she'd reply. "Maybe you'll be able to one day."  
  
Well that day still hasn't come has it Grandma?  
  
Another thing that might be allowed back in the house one day...in our dreams hey Grandma... are the photographs of Mom.   
  
We used to have a lot of beautiful photos in our home. Mom kept photos everywhere; photos of Dad in his Air Force Uniform; photos of Dad walking on the moon; photos of Grandpa and Grandma together; photos of each of us. Those photos are still in the places Mom put them.  
  
But there are no photos of Mom.   
  
Well I lie. There's one.  
  
It is a photo taken of her in Kansas two days after she moved to America to be with Dad. Grandma says the photo was taken the first day Dad brought Mom to meet her on the farm and she knew right then and there that she was going to be Dad's wife. She also added some funny comment which I didn't understand. "Just as well too after what went on during that visit."   
  
You know I've thought about that comment over the years but surely Dad wouldn't do that with Mom at Grandma's house would he?  
  
Dad kept that special photo in his study when Mom was alive and I gathered it held some special memory for him because he spent most of his time in the study. It's the only photograph of Mom in the house now and has been for over twenty years. He keeps it in his personal suite these days.  
  
Everything else was put away the day after Mom died and forbidden to be looked at. It was the same day Dad worked for hours in Mom's garden pulling out her lavender bushes. I sat on the stairs and watched him. I cried my eyes out. He was doing the same. That night the smell of lavender lingered in our back yard. The next day it had gone. Just like Mom.   
  
The photographs disappearing made me a mighty anxious five year old as the days after the funeral moved into weeks. I was a visual child and needed to look at faces otherwise I'd forget them. With no photographs to stare at, I realised that I had already started to forget what Mom looked like.   
  
I recalled Mom's words about painting things.  
  
If you can see strongly something in your mind, you can always recall it and if you can recall it you can paint it. And if you paint it, it's always there and you don't need to recall it."  
  
I decided I would need to paint my own memories of her so I had something to look at. I begged Grandma to get me the picture Dad kept of Mom in his bedroom. She wouldn't do it. She told me I had to ask Dad for it myself.  
  
Fresh from being forbidden to play the piano I didn't want to risk Dad taking away my painting too. Grandma sensed that and agreed to give me the photograph and explain things to Dad.  
  
The rest is history. If you want to see history, please come up to the attic with me later. I've got heaps of artwork up there I'd love to show you. Paintings of how I think Mom would look now, paintings of how I think she would have looked at my College graduation; paintings of Dad and her together. A painting of Dad which I did last year, placing the hundred red roses he places on her grave each year on March 13. Speaking of March 13, I also have a painting I did recently of Mom holding Alan as a baby. There are no photos of the two of them together that I know of and I thought I'd give him that as a gift when he's older. He might appreciate it when he starts thinking about family instead of chasing women ... well one woman in particular anyway.  
  
I used my talents in those sad years to help me grieve and to heal and eventually Dad healed enough to tolerate me playing the piano again...with restrictions. That's why I can't risk playing that ballad tonight. His pain may have healed a little but is still too raw for me to play something as beautiful as that. He won't hear of music or songs written for Mom or songs that remind him of her, even after twenty-one years.  
  
But through it all the sadness that enveloped our lives back then Grandma watched over me and made sure my talents weren't lost. She christened me "Lucy's Artist" a secret endearment only the two of us share. It's hardly as significant as being dubbed "Da Vinci" but I treasure being called Lucy's Artist more than anyone realises.  
  
Because that's what I am.  
  
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THE ARTISTIC TEENAGER  
  
My brother Scott has always been a hard act to follow. He was difficult to be around when I was small but after Mom died we seemed to be drawn to each other; united in our unexpressed grief. We became very close. I looked up to him and relied on him and to a certain extent he relied on me to hold him up when the responsibility of being the eldest brother got the better of him. That's still the case today.  
  
But despite that he has always been a hard act to follow and of all of my brothers I feel I got to experience this more than anyone. I was the brother coming in behind him and the expectation was always on me to perform too.  
  
By the time I got to High School Scott had given the Tracy name one hell of a reputation.  
  
He had excelled academically, he was involved in sports, he'd worked his way through most of the girls in his class and was simply dripping with good looks, charm and confidence.  
  
"Now young Virgil." Grandma said to me as I nervously prepared myself to face the inevitable comparisons to my brother on my first day of High School, "Don't you be letting any comments from unthinking individuals wipe that smile off your face this time. You hear me?"  
  
Grandma had good reason to say that. When I'd started Junior High I'd come home devastated when nearly everyone I met that day had felt the need to something to say about my lack of resemblance to my eldest brother.  
  
"You can't possibly be Scott Tracy's brother." was the general message and then worse.  
  
"Are you adopted or something?"  
  
My first day of High School was exactly the same but I paid attention to Grandma's words and didn't let what was said and intimated get me down.  
  
Despite feeling highly inadequate around Scott, I managed to find my feet after a few months. I made friends without difficulty and was easy to get along with. I may not have excelled like Scott but I still surpassed everyone in my class in academic achievement. I wasn't the shining star of the football team like he was but I played a mean game nevertheless. I wasn't dripping with his good looks, charm and confidence but I did have attributes of my own; attributes that gave me a definite advantage when it came to attracting girls.  
  
I was a Tracy son and stood as the tallest in my class. I sported Dad's distinctive build and Tracy smile. But I was also an Evans son with my chestnut colouring and deep brown eyes. This set me apart from my brother and believe it or not, my different appearance finally started to work in my favour. I had the advantage of my art and my music as well. It seemed to the girls in my class I was a bit of a mystery...an enigma...artistic and interesting and definitely worthy of their attention.  
  
Unlike my brother, my attention was magnetically drawn to the gifted ones. I enjoyed the company of girls who could paint, play music or dance. I spent many an enjoyable hour after school in theatre group painting theatrical sets with sometimes up to five girls at my beck and call. I loved playing the piano for the live performances too. Boy was it hard to take having Mary-Jane Carpenter sitting next to me at the piano during the performance. No one knew just how "difficult" it was for me to endure her bending forward in that low cut black dress to turn the pages of my music. But the artist in me said I "simply had to put up with it." The artist in me also said to memorise it and you already know how I memorised things. I simply had to stare!   
  
Unfortunately, the "Grandma" in my Grandma, sitting up in the balcony watching the performance noticed me noticing Mary-Jane Carpenter.   
  
"You did enough lookin' at that little girl to paint her from memory for the next ten years young man." she admonished me over supper. "Tracy sons don't pay attention to young ladies who flaunt themselves like that let me make that quite clear."   
  
Was Grandma kidding? I was nearly sixteen years old and I was paying attention to everything.  
  
Mary-Jane Carpenter didn't realise it but her sitting next to me like that started me on my ultimate quest for manhood.   
  
The female form fascinated me, purely from an artistic perspective of course. I began to sketch. But it was Dad who found those sketches not Grandma.  
  
"What's this then?" he growled at me one night after being up in the attic trying to find some of his old astronomy chartings for John. I saw the paper in his hand and panicked. I thought he'd found one of my pictures of Mom which had been hidden ever so carefully behind the old furniture.  
  
I looked up at him and tried to think of something to say, some excuse as to why I hid paintings of Mom up in the attic. I saw him avert his eyes from me and look at the picture.  
  
"I don't find this acceptable Virgil," he snapped and I became frozen with fear as to which picture of Mom he didn't find acceptable and why.  
  
"I'm sorry Dad." I mumbled thinking I needed to explain about Mom. "I just have this need to paint her that's all."  
  
"Well I'd suggest that you paint her with some clothes on in future." he retorted throwing down the painting in front of me. You have no idea how "relieved" I was when I saw it was only the sketch of a naked Mary-Jane Carpenter.  
  
"You're lucky your Grandmother didn't find this that's all I'll say," he added. "Now get rid of it and use your talents properly or I won't let you use them at all. Is that clear?"   
  
"Yes Sir." I swallowed.  
  
Well he'd made things clear all right and in one night managed to stop that phase of my artistic development well and truly in its tracks.  
  
Not long after the fright I got thinking Dad had discovered my paintings, I met Mary-Jane Carpenter's friend Susan. She was a very talented ballet dancer who lived and went to school on the other side of Boston. She and Mary-Jane took ballet class together on our side of town and as fate so has it, I was destined to meet her.   
  
One Saturday afternoon while I was running an errand for Grandma I bumped into them outside the ballet studio. I still blush when I think how I reacted to meeting that girl. I suppose you've guessed it. I started staring at her. Let me say who wouldn't stare at someone who looked like that.   
  
What a face. Blue eyes set in a dreamy complexion. Blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun; a leotard that clung tightly to every curve in her body. Tights that covered long lithe legs that went on forever. She was sixteen years old, a Dancer and my type of girl.  
  
Well my Saturdays were all of a sudden completely taken up. I offered to play the piano for the dance class. Susie's ballet Teacher was delighted at the generosity of that "lovely young man" who willingly gave up his time to play for her class. I was willing all right. Very willing.  
  
It soon became a ritual for Susie to be dropped off at our house each Saturday morning so she could do some "last minute" practice to my playing before she went to class.  
  
Grandma was dismayed at what Susie was wearing or should I say "wasn't wearing" when she arrived for those practices. She would stand on the porch and knock on the door wearing the tiniest of gym shorts and the tightest of gym tops. Grandma would answer the door and nearly fall over with the shock of it every single time. Susie certainly left nothing to the imagination.  
  
"That gym top's got some mighty strong elastic that's all I can say!" Grandma exclaimed matter-of-factly and without blinking an eye as she walked through the lounge room while Susie was dancing her routine to my playing. "And it's being stretched to the limit!" she added.  
  
I was mortified at the comment and luckily Susie was too busy concentrating on her dance moves to hear her.  
  
Grandma was so forthright when she didn't approve of something it became downright embarrassing sometimes. She liked Susie but she didn't approve of how uninhibited she was around me. I certainly approved. I was willing to play music from Swan Lake over and over whilst watching her every move until my eyes and other parts of me could take no more. This was my adolescent paradise and at that point I could never thank my mother enough for teaching me how to play the piano!  
  
My uneducated, culture-starved brothers complained vehemently about being subjected to the music of Swan Lake every Saturday morning to the point that the moment they saw Susie's Dad pull up in the car, all four of them would leave by the nearest exit. Dad even started playing golf on a Saturday so he didn't have to be there. You know I might find that piece of music later and play it at the party just to see if any of them recognise it. Most likely not. There's not a musical bone in their bodies and that includes Dad too.   
  
Speaking of making music, I was ready to make it with Susie any time she wanted and I was soon to be given my chance.   
  
Having said that, I would like to say I wish I hadn't have been given that chance. My life would be so much better and easier to bear if Dad had said no to me when I asked him if I could go to a campfire with Susie one Saturday evening. Dad usually said no to anything like that but because it was to be a fully supervised activity, he agreed I could go. It happened to coincide with his plans to call in at his Office to work on some new deal he was putting together. As it was only another half an hour out of his way, he offered to drive me there and return later to collect me.   
  
Unbeknown to me Grandma was later appointed to collect me. What did you ask Grandma to do it for Dad? Surely the problems at the office weren't that bad that you couldn't have spared an hour instead of sending Grandma?  
  
Well I'd better come clean and tell you what happened that night because Grandma will have told you anyway and I'd hate you to only hear her rendition of things. I don't mind if you know what happened as long as it's what really happened and no one tells my Father.  
  
Dad dropped me at the campsite. It was a beautiful night for a campfire with hardly a cloud in the sky. As I got out of the car I could smell the smoke and the aroma of food being cooked on the barbecue. It looked like things had started.  
  
"Be back out here at eleven thirty Virgil." he instructed me as I got out of the car. "Now you behave yourself with that girl son. What's her name again?"   
  
"Susie Sir." I replied.  
  
"Is that the one I let in last Saturday?" he asked. "The one ... err… the Dancer?"  
  
"Yes Sir. That's her."   
  
  
  
"Mmm." he frowned. "Like I said, I expect you'll behave yourself then Virgil."  
  
He looked at me directly and I knew he was making a point. He drove off behind the wheel of his dark blue Audi. I watched him go, checked my watch and then went to find Susie.  
  
She found me.  
  
"Hey there Virge." she smiled and took my hand. "Glad you could make it."  
  
I looked at her pretty face and smiled back. "I'm glad I could too. Thanks for inviting me."  
  
"Hungry?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah, I'm famished." I replied and the two of us went and filled our plates with the variety of delicious food on offer.  
  
The evening progressed and we all sat around the campfire, nearly forty of us, all having a wonderful time. I'd led a couple of songs including that corny song Grandma used to sing; "Ten Green Bottles." When I'd finished doing that and came to sit back down, Susie linked her arm in mine in the darkness.  
  
  
  
"You have a great voice Virgil." she enthused. "You're so talented at everything."  
  
"You think so?" I smiled looking into her eyes.   
  
"Yeah I do." she replied snuggling into me. "No-one else could sing that song quite like you. It makes me wonder what other sorts of talents you're hiding."  
  
That comment went straight over my head. I was too busy putting an arm around her as Dad had done to Mom. I also thought I might try doing what Dad used to do out on the porch with Mom. I ran my hand through Susie's silky blonde hair several times. The touch of it was magic. Suddenly I had one strange and mighty pleasurable feeling growing inside of me.   
  
I steadied myself. No wonder Dad ran his hands through Mom's hair over and over if this was how it made him feel.   
  
"Forget what you're thinking Virgil Ivan Tracy." I recall saying to myself and remembering the "talk" Dad and I had three years before. "You didn't come "equipped" for anything like this to happen tonight."  
  
To tell you the truth I used to walk around "equipped", that is of course until I forgot to empty my pockets once before Grandma washed my clothes. She made such a fuss to Dad about finding the offending object that you'd swear I was leading some sort of immoral and decadent life by having it in my possession. I kept telling Grandma I was sixteen years old now and nearly a man. She told me in no uncertain way that I'd be one mighty sorry "man" who wouldn't make it to seventeen if I thought about using what she'd found in my pocket for its intended purpose.  
  
Consequently the only things I had in my pocket that night were my handkerchief and enough money for a bus fare home; two things Grandma always insisted we had whenever we left the house.   
  
It wasn't helping that Susie had lifted her head and all I could see was her inviting red lips parting in readiness for mine. I froze. I knew I couldn't be caught kissing her even in the darkness. This was a supervised campfire and Dad had warned me to behave myself. It occurred to me right at that moment that it was just as well it was dark .I'm sure how I was feeling about Susie would have been pretty obvious to everyone in the daylight.   
  
Susie must have read my mind when I failed to deliver the anticipated kiss.  
  
"You wanna go somewhere private?" she whispered.  
  
Of course I did but my Father's words boomed in my head like a heartbeat.   
  
"Protect yourself. Protect yourself. Protect yourself."  
  
I looked at my watch and saw the time was still only ten-thirty. I still had an hour before Dad would be back to collect me and I knew he would not arrive until exactly eleven-thirty. Dad was a military man and if he said eleven thirty; he meant eleven thirty.  
  
Feeling I had an adequate time buffer, I nodded as I convinced myself that if we were alone I would only indulge in a kiss or two and probably fool around a bit without getting into too much trouble. As long as things didn't get out of hand I wouldn't have to worry about protecting myself.  
  
The two of us stole away from the fire and headed to the car park. She had the keys to her mother's car in her pocket which made me realise she was fully intending this to happen from the beginning. I only wish she would have indicated to me what her plans were for the evening. I could have been prepared then.  
  
The two of us climbed into the back seat together.  
  
I had just broken survival rule number one. "Never get into a car with a girl unless you look around the car-park to check if anyone you know is parked there." If I had checked, Grandma's car would have been clearly visible.  
  
No sooner had she gotten into the back seat of the car than she started removing her clothing. That completely threw me. I quickly understood Susie had more than just plans for me. She had "plans".  
  
"Umm... Susie... I can't..." I breathed as I looked at her in a state of undress I had only ever imagined. Things were now beginning to escalate out of control.   
  
"Why not?" she asked.   
  
"I...I didn't bring anything." I replied shamefacedly.  
  
"You don't need anything," she'd said. "I've got an implant."  
  
I was totally confused then. Dad hadn't told me about what girls used when we'd "talked." He didn't care. All he cared about was that I used something.  
  
Well I'm the sensible son, even when faced with a near naked sixteen-year old girl I'd been hankering after for nearly six months. I decided I'd better make sure what this implant thing was for my own sake.  
  
"What does an implant do?" I asked feeling rather embarrassed at my lack of education.   
  
She pulled me to her. "The same thing as what you forgot to bring stupid. Now are you gonna do this with me or not?"  
  
Well if she said it was OK I guessed it was and looking at what I was looking at, I was starting to think I didn't care if it wasn't. This sensible son was momentarily losing his sense of "sensible."   
  
I started to undress and in doing so broke survival rule number two. "Never remove your clothing without looking around to check if anyone you know is standing there." If I would have, I would have seen Grandma standing right next to the car.   
  
The rest of the act is history and I'm not going to elaborate on it other than to say I enjoyed it much more than what happened afterwards. What happened afterwards still gives me that sickening feeling whenever I think about it.   
  
Have you ever experienced the sickening feeling I'm referring to? It's a feeling that makes your stomach fall to the ground or lower. A feeling you get when a tidal wave is coming straight for you. A feeling you get when your whole body is freezing up with fear. A feeling like you're going to faint? A feeling that takes at least ten minutes to recover from and even when you do recover you feel totally drained. That's the type of sickening feeling I'm talking about.  
  
Well that's the feeling I got when a tapping on the window of the car revealed none other than my Grandmother with a face that could turn any tidal wave around and send it back screaming the other way. There I was still locked together with Susie and there she was outside the window looking straight at me. Did my body freeze up? Did my stomach drop? Did I think I was going to faint? What do you think?   
  
"Virgil Tracy you get yourself decent and out of that car!" she yelled and stormed off across the car park.  
  
I looked at Susie who was terribly embarrassed. At least she was only embarrassed. I sat there with my eyes wider than saucers, my heart beating at an alarming rate and totally panic-stricken.   
  
My whole life was now effectively over and I knew it. All I could think of were Grandma's words that I wouldn't make it to seventeen if she ever caught me doing anything like this. Forget about lethal injections, electric chairs, hanging or any other capital punishment that could be inflicted. I was about to experience the worst capital punishment known to man.   
  
Grandma.  
  
Then my stomach turned further. What if she told Dad? I didn't even want to think about what Dad would do if he found out about this.  
  
"Oh no." I remembered thinking. "Just kill me now. Strike the car with lightening and get it over with."  
  
I pulled on my clothes and so did Susie. The two of us sat in the back seat in silence.  
  
"I have to be getting back to the fire," she said after a while. "Gee Virgil I hope things go OK with your Grandma."  
  
I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for the pleasurable few minutes but it's a pity I'm about to die for them now?"  
  
"I'll let you know how the implant works out," she added as she got out of the car.  
  
What did she mean by that? Those things worked didn't they?  
  
"Protect yourself." My Father's words again came to my mind.  
  
Oh God! I'm sure my first time with a girl was not meant to turn out like this had.  
  
Well it was time to face the music. Funny I liken facing Grandma to facing the music. More like facing the firing squad.  
  
I walked across the car park with my head down and hands in my pockets. What was Grandma going to do to me?  
  
I got into Grandma's car and after a few minutes of deathly silence found the courage to raise my eyes to hers. They were normally indigo in colour and sparkled in the light. At the moment they were fixed on me and almost black. There was certainly no sparkling to be seen anywhere.  
  
"Well?" she thundered and I noticed she had both hands gripping the steering wheel. "What have you got to say for yourself?"  
  
"I'm sorry you had to see me like that ma'am." I said quietly.  
  
"Sorry? What you did just now in front of me was downright disrespectful! I'll give you sorry young man."   
  
She grabbed my arm and off she went. It was like an express train leaving a Station...destination hell. She went from no speed to maximum in only a few seconds. Twenty-five minutes I was forced to sit there as that express train went for broke. I never knew there were so many reasons not to have sex with a girl but Grandma knew each and every one of them. By the end I vowed I was never going to go near a girl again. They were nothing but trouble and I was certainly finding that out now.   
  
Then she asked me what I'd do if Susie ended up pregnant. I told her Susie had said she was protected with an implant but I uneasily recalled her words back in the car. "I'll let you know how the implant works out."  
  
Grandma then totally floored me about believing in girls who said they were protecting themselves. She told me that girls made mistakes and my own mother had been living proof of that, not once but twice. I sat there stunned as she told me there should only have been three Tracy babies in our family, not five. She told me everything about how Gordon and Alan came to be conceived whether I wanted to know about it or not. After Grandma was finished I knew Gordon was the result of a failed implant and Alan was the result of Mom forgetting to take her contraceptive pills regularly after having Gordon.  
  
I was totally and utterly terrified now. What if Susie's implant failed like Mom's? I was too young to be a Father. Why hadn't I listened to Dad? Forget that...what was I going to tell Dad?  
  
"Your Daddy will be mighty displeased if he ever finds out about this Virgil Tracy. He wouldn't approve of you boys doing this sort of thing at your age in the first place. Being with young ladies in the backs of cars is bad enough but if he finds out you didn't protect yourself after him giving you direct instructions to do so, you'll be the one needing the protecting and don't expect me to offer to help you out."  
  
I begged Grandma not to tell him. Dad would kill me for not using any protection...absolutely kill me. Grandma never committed herself one way or the other to not telling him but if I look like not doing what she wants, even now, she'll give me that look that threatens me without any words being said.  
  
To this day I'm waiting for something to come out in Dad's hearing about Susie and I still don't know how I would explain myself to him.  
  
By the way and just for the record, Susie's implant did work but not without a week of worry and stress when she told me she was late. I was so relieved when it turned out to be a false alarm.  
  
I can certainly assure you that this sensible second son is now extremely sensible in that department each and every time.  
  
As for Grandma and how she dealt with me that night, I really would like to see her write a book on the two hundred and thirteen reasons for a sixteen year old Tracy son not to have sex in a car-park.  
  
That's how many reasons she gave me that night in the car and I recall each and every one of them.  
  
You're a legend in dealing with teenagers Grandma; there's no doubt about that.   
  
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COLLEGE AND DISAPPOINTMENT  
  
A few months before I finished High School Dad summoned me to his room one night with a message he wanted to talk to me. When Grandma gave me the message all of my brothers looked at me uneasily. None of us were ever summoned to Dad's bedroom unless we were in for a caning of some description. I swallowed and thought Grandma must have told Dad about Susie.  
  
As it turned out Dad was sitting on the balcony of his room sipping a cognac. He motioned me to sit down beside him and said to stop looking so worried. He wanted to speak to me about College.  
  
I had been thinking about what I was going to do in College. My heart said to study art, literature and music. My head said Dad wouldn't agree to that. My head had been right.  
  
"You are extremely talented son," he acknowledged. "But the talents your mother gave you aren't going to get you far in life or feed your family."  
  
I didn't agree with him but I knew better than to argue with military man, career man, businessman and billionaire Jeff Tracy. How could I argue? Dad had done it all.  
  
Dad wanted me to go to College in Denver and I agreed to look at the courses being offered there. He told me he had already done the looking and assured me I would be more than happy in Denver. There were theatrical and musical groups available to me in my spare time so that my artistic needs could be satisfied. In essence he was telling me he had decided my future for me.  
  
"I expect you to excel Virgil," he said forthrightly. "A Denver education doesn't come cheap."  
  
"No Sir." I acknowledged. "I am aware of the expense."  
  
"And," he said quietly looking out onto the horizon. "I believe your Mother would have wanted you to go to College somewhere where you could continue with your music."  
  
I sat in the chair quietly not knowing what to say. He didn't talk about Mom and this was the first time he had mentioned her to me in over twelve years.  
  
The silence was dreadful with Dad struggling to bring himself to look at me. I felt like I had become five years old again and I heard Grandma's words. "You can't help looking like Mommy."  
  
"Virgil."  
  
"Yes Sir?" I asked.  
  
"It's been very difficult for me since your mother died." he said, his eyes still on the horizon.  
  
I looked at him, my face a mixture of shock and surprise. He'd never acknowledged anything had been difficult for him. Dad never acknowledged weakness.  
  
I remained silent. He finally turned to fix his eyes on me. I saw his eyes flinch as they met mine. I knew then the difficulty he was referring to was me. As per the normal ritual I averted my eyes first.  
  
"I know Sir. I'm sorry Sir." I replied feeling the need to apologise yet again for resembling my mother.  
  
I knew he wanted to talk to me about my Mom but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do it. I could see the inner struggle he was experiencing as he sat there. The Daddy who laughed and loved me so completely was trying to resurface but could not. His emotional health had been destroyed. My father who could speak with so much authority at conferences and whose sheer power of presence sucked the air from a room when he entered it, could not do something as basic as talk to me about my mother. After a few more minutes he gave up trying. He shook his head at his inability to deal with things and rose from his chair.  
  
"Well Denver it is then. You'd best be off to bed. Good night son."  
  
"Good night Dad." I said sadly. I lingered at the door in silence for a few moments, hoping he might say something further.  
  
He did not.   
  
"Dad", I still hear myself saying in my heart "I'm nearly eighteen years old now. Please finally forgive me for the way I look and the way I make you feel. Please let me play the music I've written for Mom and let me sing her songs for you. Please make me feel I can show you my paintings of her. They are so beautiful. Dad I miss her as much as you do. Please talk about her to me. Please be my "Daddy" again."  
  
When I talked to Grandma about how I was feeling she nodded sympathetically.   
  
"Time is not healing him Virgil and I don't know what else to do sweetie."   
  
I settled in well in College and enjoyed my course. As Dad had said there were theatrical groups on campus and plenty of scope for my music. I was cautious about too much on campus involvement in these activities, as I knew Dad had this fear I would "defect" to the Arts.  
  
I elected to play my music on Friday evenings at a small bar frequented by the College students. It didn't pay very much but I had a free reign on what I could play, and everyone loved my extensive repertoire. It was here in this bar that I finally got to play and sing the songs I had written for my mother with complete freedom. I recall the first time I ever sang one of those songs; the whole bar fell into silence. I became worried until a voice behind me said.  
  
"That was beautiful. Did you write it for someone special?"  
  
I turned around to look in the direction of the voice. A very pretty young girl stood there. She had the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen.  
  
"Uh..yeah." I stammered as my eyes did their usual staring at the subject. "I wrote it a long time ago for my Mom."  
  
"You know it's rude to stare," she said matter-of-factly, causing me to redden and apologise instantly.  
  
"I'm sorry. My Mother used to say that too." I admitted. I stood up and extended my hand. "Virgil's my name. Virgil Tracy."  
  
She extended hers and nodded at me. "Virgil's an unusual name. I'm Katelyn Ross. I sing here sometimes."  
  
"I'm glad to know you Katelyn." I acknowledged and smiled. "Won't you sit down?"  
  
I offered to buy her a drink in my break and in the course of the long conversation that followed, I found myself inexplicably drawn to this direct, self-confident attractive young woman.   
  
She asked me about my mother, and although I had only known her for a few hours, I found myself opening up to her about everything. She asked me about my art and my music and then queried why I wasn't studying these subjects in College.   
  
"It's obvious that your future is in the arts Virgil," she said confidently. "Why waste your time on something else?"  
  
I shook my head and told her what my Father thought about the arts and her immediate reaction was to sniff with disapproval.  
  
"Only you can live your life Virgil and I'd be following my heart if I were you."  
  
I couldn't put my finger on it but there was something about Katelyn and her manner that made her special to me and she did become very special during my time in College.  
  
We sang duets together. I accompanied her solo performances. We stayed back after the bar was closed, talking for hours and long into the night. We had candlelight suppers together and wrote new music. We sang together as I walked her home in the small hours of the morning. She became the centre of my world.   
  
I knew I had fallen in love with her.  
  
One summer night as I stood preparing to say goodnight to Katelyn on the footpath outside her Unit, I pictured Dad standing with Mom out on the porch of our Boston home. Where we stood there was no porch but I was looking at her like Dad used to look at Mom and she was looking at me like Mom used to look at Dad.  
  
I saw Dad tuck Mom's curls behind her ear. Katelyn didn't have any curls but she did have the prettiest long brown hair falling loosely around her face. I found myself bringing my hand forward almost as if the behaviour had been learned from my watching all those years ago. I tucked the hair behind her ear. She had a quizzical look on her face as I did it. I smiled at her with reassurance.  
  
Almost woodenly I raised my hand to her chin and tilted it to mine just as Dad had done to Mom.  
  
"You are so beautiful." I heard myself saying. "Katelyn... I love you."   
  
I found myself with my arms around her and our lips touching. I raised one hand to run my hand through her hair as the kiss continued. My hand moved faster than my Father's had but I guessed Dad was pretty experienced in loving Mom and was able to keep himself more under control than I could.  
  
"Virgil." she said and her voice had that funny sound to it Mom's used to have. "You are such a wonderful, attractive man. I love you too."  
  
Our lips met again. In my mind, and given the tone of her voice, I wondered if Katelyn expected me to suggest what Dad used to suggest to Mom after the kissing went on for a while on the porch. I'd only ever heard Dad say it once. Dare I suggest it to Katelyn?   
  
"Katelyn..." I began and faltered.  
  
"What Virgil?" she asked.  
  
Well it had worked for Dad. I took a deep breath and looked at her.  
  
"Katie... Let's continue this "discussion" upstairs."  
  
I waited for her to react, not daring to breathe. Katelyn wasn't saying anything. I took comfort in the fact that Mom didn't reply to Dad for a few moments either the night I heard him say that.  
  
Katelyn finally smiled at me and took my hand.  
  
"Virgil, I thought you'd never get around to asking me," she whispered.  
  
The same words Mom had said to Dad except for one thing Mom had added.  
  
"We'll have to put the boys to bed first Jeff."  
  
As I walked upstairs with Katelyn I wondered if one day she'd say that to me too about our children. I hoped so. She seemed so right for me.   
  
As I made love to her for the first time I came to understand I had learnt much more from my Father than I ever thought or gave him credit for. I held Katelyn in my arms against my bare chest in the same way I had seen Dad hold Mom when they'd left the door open in their hurry to get on with things. I whispered similar words of love to Katelyn as what Dad had whispered to Mom after their lovemaking was over. I knew those words well. Scott and I shared a bedroom right next to theirs and we heard it all in our time and heard it often.   
  
Mom may have taught me how to paint and how to play the piano but Dad, through his tenderness and passion for my mother had taught me how to love a woman. Nothing was surer than that.  
  
There were many more nights like that one with Katelyn and each and every time I held her naked in my arms my love for her deepened. I had found my soul mate. I knew Katelyn Ross was destined to become my wife.  
  
My time at College was coming to an end and with that in mind I accepted an offer to appear in the College's theatrical performance. I had been careful about over-involvement until now, knowing how Dad would react but decided that surely he wouldn't mind if I participated fully this one time.  
  
Little did I know that Dad went straight into a panic attack when Grandma told him what I was doing. He was on the telephone to me within half an hour of me telling Grandma about the play.  
  
"Now you listen here, I expect to be attending a graduation in two months Virgil." he said in his Jeff Tracy get straight to the point language. "If you're thinking about that not happening I'll be flying out there this evening to straighten the matter out with you."  
  
I pictured Katelyn saying I should ignore my Father and do what I wanted. I actually laughed to myself with amusement. Was she kidding?  
  
I tried to make Dad understand that I was only doing this as a cultural outlet for myself. I assured him over and over again I would graduate as he wanted. With that he seemed to settle down. He asked me about the performance. Obviously he'd flown off the handle so fast Grandma hadn't been able to tell him about it. He wanted to know when it was; what was I doing in it and what it was actually about. I told him I had made the sets, written the music and was actually appearing in the performance to play the piano, to sing and to act.  
  
"It sounds good then," he said trying to appear as if he was warming to the idea. I knew Dad hated the Arts but I was grateful for him pretending he was interested.  
  
"Would you like to fly out to see it Sir?" I asked. "Maybe you could bring Grandma and the kids too. It'd be good to see you all for the week-end."  
  
By the kids I meant Gordon and Alan who were now the only two left at home and I did miss them a great deal.   
  
"Mmm." he frowned. "I'll most likely be unable to come with my work commitments but I'll check with Grandma and get back to you about her and the boys."  
  
Next thing I knew Grandma was back on the telephone saying that all four of them would definitely be there. "Your Father can manage to take a night off I'm sure." she said and her voice was still bristling. I knew what that meant. She'd gone off at Dad for not showing an interest in something she had detected meant a lot to me. A talk with Gordon later in the evening confirmed it.  
  
"Shouldda heard Grandma go off Virg." he joked as I listened with amusement. "Whoa did she ever give it to Dad. She told him in no uncertain terms that he was going to watch you and there wasn't any discussion to be had."  
  
I nodded. Typical Grandma dealing with my typical Dad.  
  
Still, I was happy my family were going to be present and I eagerly awaited the performance. However there were a few things I was worried about.  
  
The Director of the play had especially requested the opening song. It was the one I had written for Mom and he had heard me play it in the Bar.  
  
"It suits the theme," he said. "There's a passion in it that's too good not to include."  
  
I thought long and hard. It had been four years since Dad had last spoken to me about Mom and I guessed a lot had changed. He'd moved from Boston to New York in that time and had become even more engrossed in his business. Surely he had begun to get over Mom by now. I agreed to sing it.  
  
The second thing I worried about was my appearance on stage. I had to wear a dress. I didn't know what Dad would think about that but he should understand it was only acting. I hoped he would anyway.  
  
"You'll need long hair," the Director commanded. "The only wig I've got is that curly one in wardrobe. Wear that Virgil. It's not that medieval looking but it's only for the duration of the song."  
  
I nodded. "Yes Sir."  
  
And so the performance began. I didn't get to see Dad, Grandma or the kids before the show but Dad had sent a message to me in the dressing room to say they would all meet me for some supper afterwards.  
  
The show began, but not until I had sought out Dad, Grandma, Gordon and Alan in the audience. Gordon and Alan had both grown into young men since I'd seen them but their faces were still full of expectation and excitement at coming to Denver to see me perform. I took my seat at the piano and played Mom's song. My clear voice rang out through the theatre and the emotion of the song truly took me over. When it was finished there was silence.   
  
Then; thunderous applause. I noticed my Father did not clap and neither did Grandma. She had a worried look on her face. Dad's was a face of stone. Nervously I left the stage to prepare for the scene in the medieval dress.   
  
I hurriedly pulled on the dress and dresser placed the wig over my hair and pinned it in place.  
  
"You know Virgil, it's a pity you're a man," he said. "You're one hell of a knock out as a woman you know."  
  
If only I'd have taken the time to think about what he'd said and looked ay myself in the mirror before I took to the stage. If I hadn't treated that comment as some sort of lame joke I could have saved myself a lot of grief that night. As the curtain went back I saw the eyes of my Father widen and grow angry. I didn't know why he was looking at me like he was. Was it the fact I was in a dress? The look on his face instilled so much fear into me that I almost forgot the lines of the song I was about to sing.  
  
Half way through the song he stood up and swore like I had never heard him swear before. Everyone in the theatre must have heard him. He walked out on me.  
  
He walked away from me just as he had walked away from me when Mom died. Little did I understand at that dreadful moment he was walking away for the same reason.  
  
I looked exactly like my Mother.  
  
The curly wig had made me the spitting image of her and he thought I was mocking him. First the song, then the wig. Once again I had caused him more pain than he cared to bear.   
  
That performance was the longest two hours of my life and despite several curtain calls and the wonderful accolades I received, I simply didn't care. The approval of my Father was everything to me and my involvement in the arts coupled with my appearance obviously stopped him giving that approval.   
  
I sat in front of the mirror removing the theatrical make-up and looked at myself feeling the same pain my Father was no doubt feeling wherever he had gone. My brown eyes, crinkled in the corners, were the same size and shape as hers. I honestly couldn't change that. My nose was impish. I couldn't change that either. Even the tears that ran down either side of it stopped in the same place her tears did. The same tiny unusual ridges she had on her face. I had them too. Angrily I brushed the tears away. My mouth trembled but it was the same mouth as hers. I couldn't change that any more than I could change the fact that my chin had the Evans dimple in it, and that my hair had the Evans colouring. I couldn't change the startling resemblance I bore to my mother. If anything changed it had to be me.  
  
Dad was so proud of Scott because Scott was like him. Scott couldn't paint, he couldn't sing, he couldn't play the piano and he couldn't act other than to get his own way. But Dad didn't care that Scott couldn't do those things. Scott could fly and lead and command like he could. Scott was Dad's idea of a Tracy son should be like; not someone like me.  
  
I knew I had to give up the things I loved. I had to be like my eldest brother. Scott's clear message to me as a child "You belong to Mommy. Daddy belongs to me." was never more obvious to me than that terrible night. The line had been drawn in the sand years before and I had been too stupid to realise it. Well I realised it now.  
  
I went to find Grandma and the kids but to my dismay only Grandma waited for me. She kissed me and told me how much she had enjoyed the performance and how much everyone was talking about my extensive talent. Every word she spoke only served to hurt me more.   
  
I asked after my brothers but she told me she had sent them back to her room. She added warily that she did not want them seeing Dad until he'd calmed down.  
  
She saw my face fall and suggested we go for a drink instead of supper. I took her to the bar where I played on Friday evenings and as she sipped her Scotch she held my hand and told me why my Father had walked out on me. At least he hadn't thought I was gay, my first real fear. Instead he thought worse of me, that I would mock him with my Mother's memory. I broke down and cried that he would even think I would consider doing something so callous and unthinking to him. Grandma tried to comfort me.  
  
"Darling, I've never seen you this upset before," she said in a worried voice. "Please calm down. Your Father will get over it."  
  
Eventually I pulled myself together and swallowed the beer I was drinking. I told her I intended to give the Arts away and concentrate on becoming a Pilot like my brother.  
  
"Pray tell me why?" she asked disapprovingly.  
  
"Because Grandma, if I want my Father to approve of me as he approves of Scott, I have to be the type of son he wants."  
  
Grandma was not happy on hearing me say such a thing. The grip she had on my hand tightened as it always did when I was in trouble over something.  
  
"What do you mean the type of son he wants? You're his son the way you are. Virgil Tracy, your mother nurtured those talents in you from a baby and do you know why? I'll tell you why. She did it because she recognised you had her talents and she didn't want them lost. She was right to do that. They have given you a gentleness that is attractive to women and they compliment the Tracy masculinity that anyone with eyes and half a brain can see you also possess. You are a fine young man. Who's to say the type of man your brother Scott has become is any more of a man than what you are? Why are you backing down to your Father to be like your brother? Your mother never backed down to your Father if she believed it was wrong to do so."  
  
I sat silently with my head down.  
  
"I know I said your mother was stubborn and she certainly was when it suited her. I can tell you now Virgil, this is one time when it would have suited her. If you back down to please your Daddy and give up your music don't let me ever hear you say you are like your mother. You are nothing like her if that's how you think."   
  
"Please Grandma." I whispered. "You don't know how I feel."  
  
"No I don't. " she snapped. "But I know how your mother would be feeling if she was sitting here listening to you say that."  
  
With that I fell silent again. Katelyn had arrived and was coming over to the table. I tried not to show how I was feeling but intuitive as ever she knew instantly. I introduced her to Grandma. They immediately got on well and chatted happily. When Katelyn finally left to sing, Grandma turned to me.  
  
"You love that little girl don't you?" she asked directly.  
  
I reddened. I hadn't told Grandma we were together. Grandma sniffed.  
  
"You know how I know Virgil Tracy?"  
  
I shook my head. I still didn't know how she knew half the things she did.  
  
"You'd have to be in love with someone who's exactly the same as your mother was. Pretty, direct, clever and not afraid of speaking her mind. Virgil, your Mother stood up to my Grant and told him she backed your Daddy's decision to be an Astronaut. She also told him in no uncertain terms she was calling you Virgil. That was a brave thing to do in this family. If I'm right and I usually am, your little Katelyn won't hear of you being a pilot. She'll want you to follow your heart and I want you to do that too. "  
  
I said nothing further.  
  
Grandma was right.  
  
But I didn't care. Scott's words rang in my head.  
  
"Daddy belongs to me."  
  
Visions of Dad throwing the ball to Scott, teaching Scott to fly, admiring Scott in his Air Force uniform. Visions of Dad avoiding me at every opportunity.  
  
The hell Dad belonged to Scott. He was my Father too.  
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
The decision I made to become a pilot after College certainly surprised but as I expected, pleased my Father.  
  
After the dreadful night of the theatrical performance Dad flew out of Denver without speaking to me. He did not contact me at all and with the holiday season approaching it made things very difficult. I returned home dutifully for Christmas but it was a tense and upsetting time in the house.   
  
Grandma had tried to reason with Dad for nearly a whole week after I arrived and eventually on Christmas Eve he came around to understanding that I wasn't mocking him by singing the song I'd written for Mom or wearing the wig that made me look like her. He agreed to forget about it for the sake of the season but he hardly spoke a word to me, preferring to spend hours talking to Scott about the Air Force and Johnny about his Laser and Communication studies.  
  
Grandma asked me to play the piano and lead some Christmas Carols for her on Christmas Day. Normally I loved doing that but still feeling Dad's anger and knowing his disapproval of my music, I declined and told her I didn't play anymore. Grandma got upset then too. Christmas Day that year was awful and I felt like it was entirely my fault.  
  
I was pleased to return to Denver where I commenced training for my Pilot's licence. Once I had obtained it, I quietly went to work for a private company. It wasn't easy living "quietly" when people identify you as the son of billionaire Jeff Tracy. Many people asked me why I didn't work for my Father in Tracy Industries New York. I offered them no reply. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone.  
  
I became very independent but I was lonely and missed my family. I was also very unhappy. I missed my music and I missed my art. And above all, I missed Katelyn.  
  
Katelyn had been indignant that I had chosen to become a pilot when she knew first hand of my deep and passionate love for the Arts. I recall the huge argument we had after I returned from my horrible family Christmas in New York and resigned from playing at the Bar. I told Katelyn I was resigning because my Father could no longer tolerate my devotion to the Arts.  
  
"If you were serious about developing your talent you would stand up to your Father," she flashed. "You would tell him you want to play music and paint and sing. Doing what you're doing might pay the bills and give you some small amount of financial security Virgil but that means nothing if you're not happy."  
  
I had no answer to that. She was right but I was a Tracy son. The Tracy sons were expected to have the same way of thinking as the Tracy man who had fathered them.  
  
"Katelyn. You want and expect financial security from me don't you?" I argued.   
  
She didn't reply so I replied for her.  
  
"Of course you do."  
  
She glared at me and folded her arms.  
  
"Don't tell me what I expect Virgil Tracy."  
  
I looked at her with her arms folded. She looked so much like Mom did the day Dad wanted to buy the Ferrari I knew Grandma was right about her personality mirroring my mother's.  
  
"Katie." I said carefully. "You might think you're happy being involved with someone who plays a piano or who can paint a picture but the truth is if that someone can't pay the rent down the track, you and I aren't going to be happy."  
  
"I don't care about money. I don't love you because your Father is a billionaire," she pointed out. "I didn't even know your family had money until you told me."  
  
"Katelyn this is not only about money..." I began.   
  
She interrupted me.  
  
"No it isn't only about money." she snapped. " It's about being true to yourself. I gave myself to you because I love the man you are. That's being true to yourself. The man you are plays music like no-one else I've ever heard, sings like angel and paints pictures that are so real I can almost reach out and touch them. The man you are makes love like an artist," she added quietly. "And when I'm in the arms of that artist I don't give a damn how the rent gets paid. Virgil all I care about is you and how you make me feel."   
  
This was so difficult. My Dad's way of thinking was completely opposite to hers.  
  
"Katie... I have to have a job that pays well." I said almost pleadingly. "Please understand."  
  
She swung away from me.  
  
"The man I love is an artist but if you want to be a Pilot so that your Father will approve of you Virgil Tracy, go right ahead. Just don't kid yourself into believing I'm the reason you're doing it."  
  
I tried to turn her back to me but she wouldn't budge. Lord she was stubborn!  
  
"Supporting me is the last thing you're really thinking about," she said. "Pleasing your Father is what counts to you. So go and please him. Leave me out of it."  
  
She turned on her heel and left the bar leaving me reeling with the harsh reality of her words. God she was like Mom used to be and I found that so attractive. Yet there I was letting her slip through my fingers.   
  
Sadly things were never the same after that. We went from regular evenings of total intimacy as partners to the occasional meal or walk in the park as friends. During those times she asked how I was doing as a pilot. I replied I was doing fine. I asked how her singing was coming along. She replied it was coming along fine. She asked how I was coping without indulging in my passion for art and music. I said I was doing fine. She looked at me and said straight out that I was lying.  
  
She somehow knew I still painted her; knew I wrote songs I wanted her to sing and knew I still went to music stores and tinkered on the pianos.   
  
I denied it and the fact that I was now lying to her proved one thing to both of us. The only thing that wasn't fine anymore was "us".  
  
My dream of kissing Katelyn on the porch in years to come, hearing her tell me she had to put our sons to bed before we continued our "discussions" upstairs was obviously only ever going to be a dream. We were drifting apart and it was becoming obvious to us both.  
  
The sad part for me is that Katelyn Ross certainly would have been Mrs Virgil Tracy if I had followed my heart. We would have set up a modest home together, filled that home with love, music and art and raised a family. We probably wouldn't have had much but with what we already had together, what else was there? Money was the only missing ingredient and Dad was living proof that all the money in the world didn't bring happiness.  
  
But I didn't follow my heart. I sought the approval of my Father.   
  
I lost that beautiful girl who was so like my Mom and I've regretted losing Katelyn to this very day.  
  
Not long after Katelyn and I agreed we should go our separate ways after nearly four years together, I got the call from Dad.  
  
He told me of his plans for International Rescue and asked me if I would consider working for him as a Pilot.   
  
I was silent on the end of the line. Was I the only son he was asking?   
  
"Your older brother is leaving the Air Force," he said almost on cue, as if he thought this would somehow figure in my answer. "And I've asked John to resign from NASA. Your younger brothers have both agreed to work for me as well. "  
  
So he was asking me last. The least favourite son. Somehow it didn't even offend me anymore.   
  
Dad knew I would agree anyway the moment he mentioned Scott was leaving the Air Force. After all these years I finally realised Dad had known of our silent competitiveness all along.  
  
I was to pilot the anchor machine Thunderbird Two. It would require me to be present for the majority of rescues. In my spare time Dad said he wanted me to work for Tracy Industries designing Aircraft alongside Scott.  
  
"Son, you'll have plenty of time to dabble in your art and music again," he said as if he thought that would compensate me. "That should please you a great deal."  
  
I found it hard to restrain a sarcastic, painful laugh.  
  
"Sir, I don't play the piano anymore." I said. "And I don't paint. I simply fly planes."  
  
"Well that will change son. Your Mother would not have wanted you to give those things up."  
  
Who could figure out my Father? Not me that's for sure.  
  
His last question to me tore my heart apart.  
  
"I also need to ask you one other thing Virgil," he said apprehensively.  
  
"Yes Dad?" I replied prepared to listen.  
  
"Are you...involved with anyone?" he asked carefully.  
  
Obviously he had security concerns and it seemed close or on-going relationships weren't going to be welcomed on Tracy Island.  
  
I bit my lip.  
  
My eyes once again saw the beautiful brown-eyed girl with the long brown hair and magic smile who I had wanted to make my wife. I heard her voice saying she wanted me to be true to myself and continue to play my music and keep painting my pictures.  
  
I had lost this treasure in my life because my Father did not approve of my music and my art and I didn't have the courage to stand up to him. Now he was telling me he did approve of those things. Why did he have to approve of them now...when it was too late?  
  
My eyes filled with tears. Katie and I would have had such talented, beautiful children and those children were never going to happen.  
  
  
  
"No Sir." I said quietly and with extreme difficulty. "I have no involvements."  
  
"Good son." he said. "I don't need complications like that in the Organisation."  
  
I shook my head as the call ended and I went and poured myself the biggest scotch I could find.   
  
No Dad, I would never dream of complicating things for you. I didn't make a fuss when you didn't hold me when Mom died. I never complained when you walked away from me because my appearance caused you pain. I never argued when you decided I had to go to College in Denver. I never stood up and expressed my disappointment when you walked out on me in the Theatre. I never blamed you for losing the girl I loved and wanted for my wife. I never showed you anything but complete love and respect.   
  
And you still couldn't look at me and love me for who I am.   
  
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Well here I am in the centre of the party and feeling most insecure. Grandma's finished laying into Dad and now she's giving a piece of her mind to Scott. He's looking mighty sheepish at the moment too, a change from his usual self-confident attitude.   
  
I look about to see what her next move might be. Gordon and John are starting another game of pool so they're safe. I haven't got a clue where my baby brother is but I can probably guess he's "otherwise occupied" because Miss Kyrano is conveniently missing at the moment too.   
  
Dad's leaning on the piano downing a double whiskey trying to recover from the dressing down Grandma has just given him.  
  
"Virgil." he is saying to me.  
  
I look straight ahead. I don't want to see his eyes fill with sadness because of how I look. I'm wearing brown tonight too, a colour Mom always wore with tremendous effect. One look at me and he'll be reminded of that fact. I don't want him to think about Mom. Not tonight when it's supposed to be a happy occasion for Grandma.   
  
"Yes Sir." I reply.  
  
" Look at me when I'm talking to you son." he says in his stern voice.  
  
I raise my eyes to my Father's. His eyes do not leave mine and for the first time they are not flinching. My Father has such beautiful eyes; just like Grandma's. I've never had the chance to notice that before.  
  
"Don't forget I want you to sing that song I asked you to write for your Grandmother later," he reminds me.  
  
"No Dad. I won't forget." I answer carefully. "It's ready. Just give me the cue."   
  
"I'd also like to hear some of your other work at some time during the evening." he continues albeit with difficulty.  
  
"My other work Sir?" I ask. What does he mean? He is making me nervous with comments like that.  
  
"Your Grandmother tells me you have a song in that huge pile of music of yours you think I might like to hear."  
  
I blink in disbelief. Surely he doesn't mean the ballad I wrote for Mom?   
  
I'm reddening and stammering.  
  
"I have...er...one or two tunes that you might like Sir." I admit.  
  
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it affectionately.  
  
"I believe there are quite a few more than one or two. But there's one in particular Grandma says. She says you'll know the one."  
  
"I do Sir." I reply. "It's one I wrote for...mother."  
  
He's nodding. "Good. I'll look forward to hearing it then."  
  
"Kyrano." he adds. "Virgil's looking a bit pale over here. I think he needs a brandy. Can you fetch him one?"   
  
Kyrano has nodded and is on his way to the Bar on my behalf.  
  
Well Dad, you've just shocked me within an inch of my life.  
  
He's turning back to me.  
  
"Oh...by the way son."  
  
"Yes Dad." I reply.  
  
"I want to see the paintings later too," he says quietly. "All of them."  
  
All colour has now left my face as I stare at him.  
  
"I believe your mother told you many times it was rude to stare Virgil." he points out. "Didn't you ever pay attention to her son?"  
  
Silence. That must have been hard for him to say.  
  
"Kyrano." he adds. "You'd better make that brandy a double."  
  
He looks at me again for a brief second before going over to watch Gordon and Johnny's pool game.  
  
I sit with my hands on the piano and watch Grandma still talking to Scott. She's laughing. He's laughing. He's hugging her. She's hugging him.  
  
I'm just sitting here. I'm astounded. Too astounded to play anything.  
  
Grandma is looking at me. She'd obviously been watching Dad speak to me from her place across the room. Now she's on her way over here. I don't care if she is annoyed at me anymore for not saying anything about the party. I simply look at her and smile.  
  
"Thank you Grandma." I say with tears of gratitude in my eyes.  
  
"What ever for child?" she asks looking intently at me with those totally "innocent" eyes of hers.  
  
"You know what for Grandma." I whisper.  
  
"Well have you ever known anyone to deny a little old lady her heartfelt wishes on her seventy fifth birthday?" she winks.  
  
"No ma'am. Not even Dad by the looks of things." I reply.  
  
"That's right and you won't deny me them either. For my birthday I want to hear the music you have written for your Mother and I want your Father and brothers to hear it too. I don't care if we all cry our eyes out. If we do it'll be a long time coming. I also want your Daddy to see your art-work and have him face up to the fact that you, my young Virgil, are the most precious gift his little Lucy ever gave him."  
  
I blush.  
  
"No Grandma." I say. "I'm one of five she gave him."  
  
She's shaking her head.   
  
" That may be so but you were a long time in the making young man. When your mother finally got around to agreeing to giving your Father his long awaited second son she gave him that bit extra to thank him for waiting. She gave him the gift of herself. That gift is you child."  
  
I feel the tears well in my eyes and gladly take the brandy Kyrano has offered me.   
  
My own special gift is standing in front of me.  
  
She is five feet two inches tall, feisty, out-spoken, determined and strong-willed. She has merry dark blue eyes, one eyebrow longer than the other and beautiful long silver hair she keeps tied up in a bun. Her glasses frame her face. The gift I have made sure I got to sit on my Daddy's lap when I was small, held me when no-one else would, disciplined me when I needed it, offered me advice even if I didn't want to take it. My gift tells me like it is and expects courtesy in return. She loves me and gives me good advice. She has now given me the greatest gift of all. The chance to reveal to my Father who I really am.  
  
My gift is my Grandma and believe me when I say how much I love her.   
  
"Grandma." I say and motion her to sit beside me.  
  
"What are you wantin'?" she asks suspiciously as she sits beside me with another Scotch in her hand. That's five you've had now Grandma!  
  
"Watch this." I say and motion her to watch Dad and my brothers.  
  
My hands poise over the keys and out of nowhere and without music in front of me I start to play. It takes a few minutes for the tune to be recognised. Grandma recognises it first and starts to laugh out loud.  
  
Scott has put down his drink and is now glaring at me and moaning loudly. John and Gordon are moaning too and covering their ears. Dad looks over his shoulder at the two of us and is shaking his head. Even he knows what it is. I'm sure if Alan is within earshot he'll be moaning too.  
  
"Oh no Virg. Not Swan Lake. Please play something else!" they all chorus and burst into fits of laughter. I stop playing and hug my Grandma as I laugh too.  
  
As I embrace her and she embraces me she whispers the words I really need to hear.  
  
"Your Father still doesn't know about that night at the campfire Virgil Ivan Tracy and now I've got him this far with you, I think it's best we leave it that way!"  
  
I smile and then say something I've practiced saying all day. The word "remember".  
  
"I'll remember you said that to me Grandma. Believe you me!"  
  
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Author's Note - I love this Chapter. It's my favourite to date.   
  
NEXT CHAPTER - CHAPTER SEVEN- PART THREE  
  
FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - DEFENCE FROM THE STARMAN   
  
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	12. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONT...

Author's Note - Now we turn to John Glenn Tracy. An enigma. Dreamy and starlike. The Tracy son least featured in the show! This is my interpretation of how he feels about himself, his relationship with his Father, the loss of his mother and life with his feisty Grandmother. I hope you enjoy it!!!! Thanks a million Lady Viva for your input and encouragement . You're a true gem my friend. mcj  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN - FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL   
  
PART THREE - DEFENCE FROM THE STARMAN  
  
"For God's sake Gordon take the shot and get the hell over here so I can stand with my back to Grandma."   
  
That's what I'm thinking at the moment and getting pretty damn close to saying to that red-haired, troublemaking brother of mine if he procrastinates one more minute over whether to sink the red ball in the hip pocket or the yellow ball in the side pocket.   
  
He's grinning at me as he slowly contemplates his next move. He's deliberately delaying things so I'm forced to look at Grandma face to face trying to feign my innocence. He knows I'm nervous about Grandma's reaction to finding out about the party and he's making the absolute most of my discomfort. God I detest him sometimes for his warped sense of humour. Family clown!  
  
For goodness sake, this is getting ridiculous and so blasted typical of Gordon. Sometimes I wish Mom and Dad had left him permanently at the maternity hospital after he was born instead of only temporarily. I guess I shouldn't say that because he was fighting for his life but his sense of what's funny these days drives me absolutely crazy.  
  
Well he's not fighting for his life now. At the moment the only thing my kid brother is fighting for is to survive in a pool game he can't possibly win no matter what ball he sinks. That, and keeping in a safe position away from Grandma.  
  
"Gordon move it!" I hear myself snap. "Take the damned shot. You can't win any way."  
  
He is smiling at me absolutely loving the fact that he's making me squirm. However despite the brilliance of his smile and our current battle of wills, my eyes look to where his eyes look.  
  
Both of us look at Josephine Tracy; our Grandma.  
  
"I know I'm next Gordon OK?" I mutter under my breath. "When there's trouble coming from oldest to youngest I know my place in this family very well. I'm in the middle and Grandma has now worked her way down the line to reach me."  
  
"Got a problem at the moment hey Johnny boy?" he's asking me in his roguish voice.   
  
He obviously didn't hear me talking to myself. If he did he would know I know I am about to be balled out by Grandma for not telling her about the surprise party.  
  
"Yeah I do have a problem." I reply in an annoyed voice. "And you're it."  
  
"You're too sarcastic John." I tell myself after hearing the words leave my mouth.  
  
It's a trait I've developed from being a middle child.  
  
"Nah." he grins. "You've got much bigger problems than me by the look of things. Get a load of Grandma's face will ya!"  
  
I shudder and choose not to look as he continues. "Yep she's blasted Dad, torn strips off Scott, said her piece to Virgil and ....uh oh ...."  
  
"Uh oh? What's she doing now Gordon?" I panic in silence.   
  
One nervous glance in Grandma's direction and that spirited face of hers gives me the look I learnt to recognise so well as a child.  
  
"John Glenn Tracy; you're next."   
  
Oh no.  
  
Grandma, I sort of told you about the party last night when we were out looking at the stars together but I was under Dad's strict instructions not to say anything to you. Dad doesn't confide in me much, not like he confides in Scott, so when he finally does tell me something, I feel obliged to do the right thing by him. Is that a plausible excuse? I hope so. That's the only one I can think of at the moment.  
  
Besides Grandma, I like parties and you have to admit they're few and far between for me these days. I don't get to socialise much owing to those long, lonely weeks I spend alone up in Thunderbird Five. I've kind of been looking forward to being with you, Dad and the guys and having a few laughs while we celebrate you making it to seventy-five.  
  
"Yeah that at least sounds reasonable" I think to myself. "I'll use that angle if the first excuse fails.  
  
It just so happens, like usual, that this party happened to fall during Alan's rotation in Thunderbird Five not mine, and Dad was adamant he had to be here.   
  
"Grandma's favourite little grandson can't possibly miss anything can he now!"   
  
There I go again. "You're too sarcastic Johnny." I tell myself again.  
  
  
  
Who'd be a middle son? Middle sons aren't anyone's favourite and in this family, don't count for anything. Don't get me going on that subject at the moment. It's a sore point with me.  
  
Even though I'm supposed to be enjoying some well deserved rest and recreation after a month alone in space, I was still expected to "do my duty" this afternoon and go back up to Thunderbird Five and bring the brat home for the party. It's enough I had to undertake what I felt was a totally unnecessary flight but then Dad decided to come along for the ride as well… and took the controls! He made me sit next to him the whole way pointing out how he used to pilot rocket ships back in the stone ages and while he was in the process he started telling me what to do and how to do it. Yeah Dad! Like I know nothing about rocket ships and flying and need you to tell me! I'm an Astronaut remember?  
  
Dad was bad enough but then Alan tried to do the same thing to me when I finally got the controls back for the trip home. "Go faster John. Slow down John. Not that way John." That kid thinks he knows everything. I know I have to put up with it from Dad but there was no way I was taking it from him. I soon put him in his place.   
  
He stormed off then and started complaining to Dad about being bored in the satellite. The two of them argued about that the whole way home. I was ready for a straight-jacket by the time I landed again. And the worst thing is I've got to turn around again tomorrow night and put myself out to take him all the way back up there again. He needn't think I'll be tolerating his arguing or whinging then.   
  
Frankly I still don't know why he couldn't just miss the party in the first place. I have to miss most family things because of International Rescue. I know for a fact if Grandma's party would have fallen during my rotation, Dad would have said in his deep and inflexible voice, "Too bad you have to miss things John."   
  
Father would never have considered sending Alan up to get me. Even if he did Alan wouldn't have got here anyway. He would have found some lame excuse as to why he couldn't go. He has an excuse for everything and he always gets away with it.  
  
  
  
I guess missing out is my lot in life these days and it truly wouldn't irk me quite so much if Alan was treated the same way. It figures the little weasel got out of another two days of duty again, this time under the pretence of being home for Grandma. He won't add those two days to his stay up there either. He'll be contacting Dad and demanding to leave the satellite right on the first of the month. He can't possibly be away from his "good friend" Tin-Tin Kyrano one second longer than necessary can he now?   
  
"You're way too sarcastic Johnny." I say to myself for the third time.  
  
Somehow he always gets to work fewer days up there than I do. Well if Dad's allowed him home to be with Grandma he'd better drag his damned ass in here soon and take the time to be with her or else I'm going looking for him. He won't be hard to find either. His "friend's" bedroom is right next to mine.  
  
I hate favouritism. Like I said before, don't get me going on the subject.  
  
Well yeah get me going then. Favouritism in this family is going on all around me.  
  
Big brother Scott is Dad's favourite. Ask any of my other brothers. I love Scott a lot but Dad's super-inflated pride in him and his achievements is sickening. I've got every bit of Scott's military background in me; maybe not as many years of it or as many commendations, but NASA trained me nearly the same way. Dad conveniently forgets that.  
  
Virgil is looked after by Grandma even though she's subtle about it. Look at the two of them over there having a deep and meaningful about ballads and art or some other stupid crock I don't care for. Virgil was always the one who got the extra cookie from Grandma when we were little. Grandma used to say he needed it more than the rest of us. Looking at Virg at the moment he could do with a few less cookies if you know what I mean. He's put on a bit of weight recently. Too many pieces of Grandma's Apple Pie no doubt. Oh yeah there's no doubt Grandma looks after him!  
  
Gordon, pain that he is has got Dad twisted around his little finger. Dad's got a secret fondness for him and I've been witnessing that since I was two years old when he hurriedly came into the world, took over Dad's heart and moved in on my special space with Mom. Dad treats Gordon in a different way to the rest of us. It's like he's special or something. I suppose it goes back to Dad nearly losing him twice. Let me tell you if he doesn't hurry up and make his shot soon, Dad's at big risk of losing him a third time!  
  
Alan; well as I said before he's Grandma's little darling and can do no wrong in her eyes. Now if anything's sickening that is. I'm sure what he's doing with Tin-Tin Kyrano at the moment has to be classed as wrong in someone's eyes; definitely Dad's anyway and I'm sure Kyrano wouldn't be approving of it either. But trust me, more than likely Grandma would find a justification for what was going on. In case you haven't guessed it yet, I'm not particularly fond of my youngest brother. I haven't been from the day he was born.  
  
Me? I'm nobody's favourite. I'm the Tracy son in the middle. I'm not a leader like Scott who takes after Dad, I'm not artistic like Virgil, thank God I might say, I'm not a joke-about like Gordon who is going to get it soon if he doesn't take the blasted shot...just go for the red ball and be done with it you idiot...and I'm definitely not a wild, impetuous brat like Alan.  
  
Sometimes I don't know who I am or where I fit into this family of brilliance and talent. Being in the middle is the pits. Half the time no-one even notices me but one thing's for sure; Grandma is noticing me now. It's amazing how the middle son is overlooked until there's trouble to be had. It's funny how everyone's equal then.  
  
"Gordon!" I explode with frustration. "Hurry up will ya'!"  
  
"OK, OK. Calm down Conan!" he says knowing by my tone I've had enough of his goofing around.   
  
Finally! Thank you Gordon. As usual you made the wrong decision and tried to sink the yellow ball. Not only that you missed the pocket again too.   
  
"You're hopeless kid!" I exclaim as the ball goes nowhere. "Better stick to the swimming pool. That's the only type of pool you're ever going to win at."  
  
Gordon's not amused at my comment but do I care? Not in the slightest! At least I can move to the other side of the table now and keep my back to Grandma. That move wasn't necessarily a good one for me either. I'm overlooking the water and can't help but gaze through the open doors to the balcony and up into the night sky. My head moves as if it cannot be controlled. My eyes scan the heavens. Its eight thirty in the evening and in the middle of June so she should be...right... over... there.  
  
Yes, there she is, bright and vibrant as always, silently watching over the party.   
  
As I smile to myself I remember sadly how I used to be a favourite son once.   
  
I was her favourite or at least I felt like I was.   
  
But she's gone now and has been for a long time. My smile fades.  
  
"Hi Mom," I acknowledge silently as I continue to look at the evening star. "How are you doin' tonight?"  
  
The star appears brighter after I think that. I suddenly feel happier but my smile does not return. The star sparkles again. She's trying to cheer me up.  
  
"I know you can sense what I'm thinking Mom. You know how much I want you to come back to me."  
  
My one-sided silent conversation with my mother continues as I talk to her about the party.  
  
"I guess you know Grandma's seventy-five today and we're having a party for her. You can see straight into the lounge from where you rose in the sky tonight can't you? I guess that's why you rose in the wrong spot tonight. You know you should be ten degrees further to the west according to my calculations. Its OK Mom, I know you've never done that before and won't be making a habit of it. I guess you needed to see Dad huh? Dad's over there talking to Scott if you're looking for him."   
  
I continue to gaze silently towards the evening star and those words of Grandma's offered in comfort to me when I was three and half years old echo in my mind.  
  
"Mom is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die."  
  
I think I must have swallowed that savoury thing of Kyrano's without chewing it properly. It's given me a lump in my throat like the one I used to have every single day of my life for years after she died. I haven't felt that terrible lump for a while now. Funny what brings it back. Who'd have thought a happy occasion like Grandma's birthday would.   
  
"You don't have to try to sparkle for me Mom." I assure her silently. "I'm not upset anymore; really I'm not. It has to be the savouries."  
  
I shake my head and accept I'm only kidding myself. After twenty-one years I still miss mother dreadfully.   
  
Now it's Gordon's turn to complain about me.  
  
"Come on will ya Johnny." he's exclaiming. "Quit looking up at the sky for Pete's sake. Don't you see enough of the stars already? Make the shot"  
  
The lump's gone now, courtesy of my pain of a brother interrupting my thoughts. OK then. You're asking for it Gordo. Wordlessly I line up the red ball and easily sink it in the hip pocket. There's only the yellow to go now.  
  
"Say goodnight Josephine." I say as I sink the last ball. "Big brother Johnny is too good for you kid!"  
  
"You're the one who should be saying goodnight Johnny boy." he grins at me. "Here comes Josephine herself and she's lookin' right at you!  
  
I swallow and redden.  
  
Well I guess it's time, as Virgil so eloquently puts it, "to face the music". The verbal caning I'm about to receive will last a while if my previous reality checks from her are anything to go by. I'd better brace myself for it. Quick Kyrano bring that martini over here now.  
  
Kyrano somehow senses my silent request for intestinal fortitude and walks over with the tray to offer me a drink.  
  
Now with a drink in hand and before Grandma starts on me, I'd like to relay how it felt to be the middle son growing up in the Tracy household. I'll tell you how a middle son felt losing his beloved mother, developed a passion for the stars, grew into a man and finally ended up working for International Rescue and the Father who at one stage didn't want to acknowledge his existence.  
  
That middle son is me. John Glenn Tracy; the third Tracy son; the grandson Grandma fondly refers to as her "Star Man".  
  
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A STAR IN THE MAKING  
  
Much to my extreme embarrassment Grandma informed me recently she was in the house the night my Father and mother…well…made me. I'm still getting my head around that one and keep trying not to think about it.  
  
Grandma said she wished she was as sure of the lottery numbers as she was sure there was going to be a Tracy baby conceived the night Dad returned from the moon. How would she have known that? It's not as if it's something Mom would have told her and frankly I'm quite surprised Dad would have let his guard down to give Grandma the impression he and Mom intended to do something like that around her in the first place.  
  
However her recollection of my conception was like one of her reality checks. You didn't want to hear it but you were going to hear it anyway so you may as well just accept the fact you have no choice in the matter and listen with resignation.  
  
Grandma, I can listen to the part where you said Mom looked like she had made some sort of important decision two weeks before Dad came home from the moon. I certainly have no problems listening to the part where you said Dad kissed her for nearly five minutes in front of the President when he got back. My mother was simply the most beautiful woman who ever lived on this earth so I can understand him doing that. I can listen to you telling me how the two of them sat very close to each other all night talking to you about nothing and looking like they wanted to be alone. They always sat close together and they were always looking at each other and wanting to be alone. It was just the way it was with them. I can even listen to you say Dad asked Mom to go to bed with him right in front of you. He was probably tired Grandma. It's a long way to the moon and back you know.   
  
However that's when I draw the line on listening to your tale of my conception Grandma.   
  
The very thought of my Father and Mother doing "that" fairly makes my stomach turn. I simply can't imagine Dad ever having sex at all and it's a worse picture when I know you were next door in the spare room listening while he was having it.  
  
Grandma, it's no wonder I feel like you've known me longer than my whole life.  
  
You literally did know me when I was simply "a twinkle in my Father's eye."  
  
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A STAR IS BORN  
  
From what I've been told by Grandma, I should have been born a girl. Mom had birthed two boys before me and Dad had promised to give her a girl the third time around. I've often wondered how a man fulfilled a promise like that. I bet Dad wished he knew too because I was definitely born with the wrong type of equipment to be considered a girl and Grandma said Mom wasn't too pleased about it either.   
  
Apparently I was to be her last baby and she was extremely confident she was carrying a daughter.  
  
Grandma said she warned Mom not to get carried away and forget the Tracy history of producing little boys. She suggested Mom keep Virgil's blue baby clothes on the "off-chance" she might be mistaken. Wrong thing to say to my Mom! Mom was a pretty stubborn lady if you didn't already hear that from my brothers. I was a girl because she said I was and that was that. The blue items were disposed of in her seventh month and the pink items were purchased. Dad started shaking in his shoes when he was asked to paint the nursery pink and white. He suggested yellow would be a better colour. Mom said pink and white.   
  
Well Mom you were wrong about everything. I wasn't the girl you wanted and I don't know what else went wrong for you and Dad but I wasn't your last baby either.   
  
Grandma said Mom was really disappointed which isn't something I really wanted to hear when it's me she was talking about. She said Dad was actually starting to worry Mom didn't want to take me home from the hospital with her at one stage. How could she even think that? I'm the best looking out of all my brothers. I'm not a replica of Dad; yeah Scott I mean you; neither am I a clone of Mom; that's you Virgil. I'm a mixture of them both and it seems Mom found that more than a little hard to deal with at the time. I suppose when your husband has dark hair and you have reddish brown hair and your child comes out with blonde hair and looking like he belongs to no-one it can all be a little disconcerting.  
  
However my Dad wove his special magic when it came to dealing with Mom's disappointment that day. Grandma said Dad simply had a way with Mom and it was just as well he did too otherwise I'd still probably be at the maternity hospital. Grandma said he kissed her and pointed out what a beautiful baby I was, which was the truth of course and gave her his brilliant Tracy smile which won her heart every time. Within the hour Mom had forgiven Dad for giving her a third boy and she was calling me her little "Starman."  
  
However I remained in grave danger of being brought home from the hospital in a pink diaper and matching shirt because Mom had refused to listen to Grandma two month's earlier. Fortunately for me my Father loved me enough to go straight from the hospital to the department store with Grandma and his credit card.  
  
At three days old I came home to Paramount Road Boston to meet my two big brothers Scott aged five and Virgil aged two. My mother placed me in my cot in the hurriedly "repainted" blue and white nursery and went to stand beside my Father. They both hugged each other as they looked at me noting with satisfaction how cute I looked in my blue diaper and matching blue shirt. The shirt had a big white star in the centre. It must have been an omen of the future.  
  
Thanks Dad. I'll always be grateful to you and Grandma. You saved my masculinity with your quick thinking!  
  
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THE BABY FROM OUTER SPACE  
  
I was supposedly a dreadful baby. Do you blame a kid for being difficult? My Grandma was next door eavesdropping when I left my father's body; my mother wanted a girl not a boy and would have sent me back if she could; I didn't look like anyone called Tracy and to top it all off I was the little brother of a jealous five year old who didn't like the fact that he had to deal with yet another baby in the house and made his displeasure clearly known.  
  
What would you do if you were me? Plant a fake smile on your face and tap dance around the room?  
  
Sorry that's the sarcasm coming back again. I can't help it. It helps me deal with things around here.   
  
Grandma uses many words to describe how I was in my first months of life and none of them are complementary. Words such as difficult, colicky and clingy spring to my mind. You name it; I was it according to Grandma. Personally I think my temperament was designed to be an eye opener for Mom and Dad after raising the two babies I sarcastically refer to as Mr. Perfect and Mr. Placid. Maybe I was a warning to the both of them not to have any more babies. They should have paid attention shouldn't they? Look what they ended up with after me! Mr. Clown and Mr. Whinger.  
  
I'm surprised to learn Grandma couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. She usually knows everything. Well she certainly didn't know the reason for my continuous crying and total insecurity whenever I was left alone. She couldn't work out how my two older brothers could both be born extroverts and I wasn't. What in the heck had happened to me? By and by she came up with her "theory". Nothing had happened to me. It had happened to Dad!   
  
According to Grandma, when Dad left Earth's atmosphere on his way to the moon, his physical composition took a turn for the worst. A lack of gravity had resulted in a "lack of something" or at least that's what Grandma said.  
  
Grandma seemed to think when Dad fathered me he was missing something important. Well that was obvious. Ask Mom where her baby daughter was! Anyway she truly believed Dad was the reason for my unsettled state. There could be no other explanation for why I cried wretchedly whenever my mother put me down to sleep or whenever someone else fed me other than my mother or when I lost sight of my mother as she tended to my brothers.  
  
Grandma's pretty astute but not this time if you want my opinion. Surely it was as plain as the nose on her face why I was crying. There was a common denominator in all my fussing. I simply had a deep emotional attachment to my mother from the beginning. She was the centre of my world. What's wrong with that in a kid?  
  
Dad still laughs about what he fondly calls "Grandma's theory." He told me once Grandma was determined to prove herself and demanded to know how the babies of the other Astronauts who went to the moon with him turned out.  
  
"Your Grandma was one crazy lady back then John." he laughed. "She stood in the kitchen in Boston, large as life, telling me to my face there was something wrong with me. She even had your mother half-believing her at one stage."  
  
Well Dad, come to think of it, maybe Grandma was right. Look at how your last two sons turned out. You have to admit something went seriously wrong somewhere with Gordon. He's never been normal and as for Alan; you don't Father a brat who carries on like he does if there isn't something wrong with you.  
  
Still, even though I was difficult I was extremely amiable and content when I was around my mother. Dad was away a lot when I was very small and hence my close bond with her was really quite normal. Well I think it was. You've got to attach yourself to someone!  
  
I don't remember anything of my very early childhood but Grandma knows everything courtesy of her monthly visits to Boston.  
  
I enjoy listening to her speak about how much Mom loved me even now. Grandma said if there was ever a complete love of mother and child we were it. I smiled; she smiled. I cried; she came. I slept; she held me lovingly in her arms. I have some beautiful pictures painted in my head of how close I was to mom and unlike Virgil who can put those memories down on canvas; mine only remain indelibly etched in my mind. But those pictures are every bit as real to me as Virgil's. Maybe even more real.   
  
Grandma contends the year I turned one was the happiest year of Mom and Dad's life. She said they had three beautiful sons, had made their first million dollars and were on top of the world.   
  
Then things started to go wrong for them.  
  
Mom fell pregnant again much to her dismay and Grandma immediately got back on the case with her "theory" about Dad. While "Doctor Josie" was wrestling with science, Mom was wrestling with me. I was not quite two at the time and from the sound of things must have made life pretty hard for her as her pregnancy progressed. I don't remember any of it but I guess life would be pretty hard if you had a husband who was never at home and you were struggling to raise a bossy seven year old, a strange four year old who stared at people everywhere he went, a two year old who cried all the time and a pregnancy.   
  
To make matters worse for Mom I became a big brother earlier than expected to a tiny red-haired premature baby. Life was becoming messy as my doting mother became a dreadfully exhausted one, who, on top of dealing with everything else I've just told you, had to travel to the hospital on the other side of Boston every day for two months to express her milk for Gordon. Grandma tells me I was particularly bad then, fussing whenever she left the house, fussing whenever she returned. And as for Dad, she said...well Dad was getting mighty sick of it.  
  
My own memories stretch back to when Dad couldn't take things with me any longer. That was after things hit rock bottom when Gordon was four months old and Mom found herself pregnant for a fifth time. Mom completely lost her way when that happened Grandma said and didn't want to elaborate any more.   
  
Grandma wouldn't discuss the bits of information I picked up from Scott and Virgil's conversations over the years about Mom and Dad's argument, Mom threatening to leave Dad, Dad putting his business on hold so she didn't take us away from him and Mom's complete loss of spirit through an extremely difficult fifth pregnancy. She said I didn't need to know those things.  
  
Both Scott and Virgil have told me about my very first caning from Dad at age three. It was just before Alan was born and Dad couldn't take seeing Mom with a baby on her lap, one in her belly and me crying and wanting to be held too. He refused to accept my total dependence on her any longer. He asked me to come to him and he would attend to what I wanted. I wouldn't come. I only wanted my mother to attend to my needs. Apparently Mom started to cry from exhaustion and Dad saw red. He hated seeing Mom upset and he knew how upset she was about the new baby and how bad things were turning out for them because of it  
  
"Boy you got it that day." Scott recounted to me as the two of us returned from a late-night rescue together. "Dad totally cracked when you wouldn't come to him. You sure as heck weren't game to carry on ever again by the time he'd finished with you."  
  
Virgil's account was even more graphic. I could actually recall it happening after listening to him.   
  
Grandma simply said she didn't believe in caning little boys but in my case it was warranted. Thanks for nothing Grandma!  
  
Then came the event that totally ruined my life.  
  
On March 13 the same year, my mother started to have back pain when she was giving Virgil a piano lesson. Grandma said it was time. My Father left me with Grandma telling me he was taking my mother to hospital to have the new baby. The baby Mom had been crying about for months.   
  
My mother never came back from the hospital.  
  
A tiny, blonde haired baby came back instead; a baby who screamed and fussed and completely took over the house within two minutes of arriving.   
  
My precious mother had died after giving birth to that baby.   
  
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A STAR IN THE SKY  
  
All I remember about Mom actually dying was being pushed into some dark room by Grandma and feeling afraid. Scott told me Mom spoke to me before she died and told me to be good for Dad. She said I had look out for her in the night sky where she would always be watching over me. Scott doesn't like talking about Mom but he did tell me the details of Mom's last conversation with me. I don't remember it at all. All I can vaguely remember is being taken outside in the corridor by Grandma along with the rest of my brothers and then Dad coming out a short time later sobbing she had died. I vividly remember Dad crying constantly for a whole week afterwards. He just sat there, unable to do anything, trying to comprehend he had been left alone to raise five children, two of them babies.   
  
Mom's funeral is unclear in my mind but Grandma said I sat next to her in the church and kept asking loudly where my Mommy was. In the end she told me Mom was asleep in the white box on the altar and I had to be quiet so I didn't wake her up. Grandma smiled sadly when she recounted to me I had later berated Scott for reading too loudly on the altar. She said I told Scott he would wake Mom up too if he didn't keep his voice down.  
  
It's strange I don't remember much of the funeral yet I clearly remember the burial. I was in Dad's arms and from his six foot plus height the open grave was the deepest thing I had ever seen. I still see the white casket being lowered as plain as if it were yesterday and Dad nearly squeezing the life out of me while it was happening. Why do I remember that? It was probably because I couldn't breathe. My Father was and still is a very strong man.  
  
At three and a half years old my knowledge of the death process was very limited. Grandma used to look up in the sky and say Mom was in heaven but I kept remembering they put the casket down in the ground. Heaven was down not up if that's where Mom had gone or at least that's what I told Grandma. Grandma said the body went down but the spirit went up. This only served to confuse me further. Where had Mom actually gone; down or up?  
  
The baby came home from the hospital after the funeral and I waited with great expectation for when Mom would come back from heaven to look after him. In my mind Mom had to come back because we had a new baby and four other kids to care for. Caring for us was Mom's job. Dad's job as I saw it was to talk on the telephone and draw big plans. The days went by and Dad continued to tend to the baby even though he also tried to talk on the telephone and draw up plans. I kept asking him when my Mom was coming back. Dad kept saying she wasn't. I said she was because of the baby. He said she wasn't; Mom was dead.  
  
Finally it got too much for Dad and he sat me down to try to explain to me what death meant. I wish he wouldn't have. His explanation scarred me for life even though he did it with love and every intention to simply make me understand.  
  
He likened Mom dying to the death of Scott's pet hamster. Scott had allowed me to help care for Monty from when I was barely able to walk. Virgil was annoyed Scott had let me help and not him, however when Monty died unexpectedly Virgil was secretly pleased and said at least he couldn't be blamed for the "rat dying." Monty's death had been a tragedy for both Scott and me and we buried him with great aplomb underneath the apple tree in the back yard. All this took place several months before Mom died. Now Dad was telling me Mom was like Monty who I knew would never come back. Monty was under the apple tree in his white cardboard box and Dad said my mom was no different. She was in her white box at the cemetery and would stay there forever.   
  
I began to cry. I knew what Dad said clearly meant I wouldn't see my Mom anymore. Dad held me close to his chest and I still remember feeling it heave against my face. It felt like Dad's heart was going to burst and my heart felt like that too.  
  
Things were going to get worse. I was extremely distressed after Dad's explanation of things and Dad was so upset about having to do it, the only way he could deal with things was to put me into bed and drown his sorrows in the drink. When Dad brought me in Virgil was already in bed with his face to the wall, the way he had slept every night since Mom died. I looked up at Dad's distressed features as he kissed me good night and tucked me in.  
  
"Goodnight John, "he said miserably. "Please promise Daddy you won't ask about Mommy coming back any more."  
  
I nodded at him silently.  
  
"Sleep tight son." he said and turned off the night-light.  
  
"Good night Daddy." Virgil said tearfully without turning his face.   
  
Dad didn't answer him.  
  
Once the light went out Virgil started to cry into his pillow sobbing he didn't know why Dad didn't love him any more. I got into bed with him and the two of us lay together with our arms around each other. After a while Virgil stopped crying and we lay side by side in the darkness listening to the rain on the roof. Virgil was clearly distraught and so was I but for two entirely different reasons.   
  
I wanted Mom. He wanted Mom too but he wanted Dad more.   
  
Thoughts of Mom in her white box plagued me. I figured it would be dark and lonely in there. I asked Virgil what he thought happened to Monty after Scott and I buried him. I wished I hadn't asked him that question. As I told you before Virgil was jealous of the fact Scott and I had shared a common interest in caring for Monty and now, hurting terribly about Dad, he didn't care if he hurt me. Without thinking he said wretchedly,   
  
"Monty turned into bones. Then a dog dug him up and ate him."  
  
It was like my world ended as those words were uttered.   
  
I lay there horrified unable to sleep. If my mother was like Monty she was going to turn into bones too. All sorts of visions reared up and over the next two weeks reared up in the worst way possible.  
  
Nightmares; dreadful, hysterical nightmares, from which I woke screaming uncontrollably. My screams woke the whole household including both babies, Dad and Grandma.  
  
Nothing could calm me down; not even Grandma gathering me into her arms and holding me tight. I would sob in her arms as she rocked me crying for my mother and begging her not to turn into bones.   
  
Even now I have a recurring nightmare of a walking skeleton holding a baby and calling my name. I've woken many a night in Thunderbird Five bathed in a cold sweat as a result of it. I've had the same dream for twenty-one years and only when I think about Mom's death.  
  
One night Grandma said to Dad this couldn't be allowed continue. Dad agreed with her but said he had enough to do looking after the babies without sitting up with me every night too. Grandma was left to find a solution and her solution ended up being not only the calming influence in my life but the start of my future direction.  
  
The stars.  
  
I will always treasure the first night I sat with my Grandma under the stars. She called me out on the porch after dinner and asked me to sit down next to her on the chair. I sat obediently and folded my hands in my lap. I fixed my eyes on her and waited for her to speak.  
  
"Sweetie. I want you to tell Grandma where Mommy is." she began carefully.   
  
I told her she was in heaven.  
  
"Yes she's on her way to heaven." Grandma agreed. "Where do you think heaven is John?"  
  
I shrugged and replied I didn't know but I wished I did. At least I would know whether Mom was up there or down here.  
  
Grandma put her arm around me and looked up into the night sky. I followed her gaze.  
  
"Heaven is up past those stars." she pointed out.   
  
"Heaven is a long way from here." I replied feeling sad.  
  
Grandma went on to tell me that she had a little secret about Mom and she was the only one who knew about it. Mom hadn't quite made it to heaven yet. She was with Grandpa. All the people who died weren't allowed into heaven until they were ready to leave their family and until they were ready they had to become stars. Grandpa was a star she said and so was Mom. Grandpa would never make it to heaven and neither would Mom.  
  
"Your mommy loved you and Daddy and your brothers too much to leave you behind and go to heaven." she said. "She will stay close by where you can see her for the rest of your life."  
  
My heart lifted with those words and I smiled happily at Grandma. She picked me up and   
  
my eyes eagerly scanned the sky. I asked her which star was Grandpa. She said I had to guess but he was up there all right sparkling away right next to Mom.  
  
"Which one is mommy then?" I asked.  
  
Grandma pointed at the evening star.  
  
"Mommy is the biggest and most beautiful star." she said. "She completely outshines your Grandpa doesn't she?"  
  
"She completely outshined him on the earth too." she added under her breath.   
  
"Hello Mommy." I breathed happily and waved at the star.  
  
"Now I want you to promise Grandma every night before you go to sleep you will look out the window and say good night to her. She will watch over you all night if you do and then there'll be no reason for you to be afraid sweetie. "  
  
I nodded and asked what I should say. Grandma thought for a while.   
  
"Say these words after me little one," she said tenderly.  
  
"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky…"  
  
"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky…" I repeated.  
  
"and while she's there…"  
  
"and while she's there… I repeated.  
  
"she will never, ever die."   
  
"she will never, ever die." I repeated.  
  
"Now look up at Mommy and say goodnight by yourself."  
  
"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die." I said slowly. "Good night mommy." I whispered.  
  
Grandma hugged me and I wrapped my arms around her neck and rested my head on her shoulder. I loved her very much and even though she wasn't my mother it was nearly the same.   
  
I slept well that night and my heart was at peace thanks to my Grandma.   
  
I don't think she realises just how important those words were to me and how important they remain to this day.  
  
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STAR STRUCK  
  
There are two things I would say my Father and I have in common. The first is our great love of astronomy and the second is our complete failure to properly deal with Mom dying.   
  
Luckily for both of us we had Grandma to see us through the bad days and there were more bad days than good in the beginning. Even now there are bad days and we look to Grandma for support and comfort. Alan's birthday is one of them. Mom's birthday is another. The two of us simply can't help ourselves.  
  
When things got bad in the early days Grandma would hunt Dad and I out onto the porch together to look at "Mom." Personally I think Dad disapproved of me talking to the evening star but willing to do anything to stop me crying after Mom he sat patiently each night with me on his lap allowing me to say my words to the star. I would fix my big blue eyes on the heavens and gaze at the sky.  
  
"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky, and while she's there, she will never, ever die."  
  
I would turn to Dad and say. "That's right what I'm saying Daddy hey?"  
  
Dad would nod tearfully and smile sadly. "Mommy will always be the brightest star in my sky Johnny." he used to say. "And she will never die in my heart either."  
  
He would then distract me and point out a different star or constellation in an attempt to reduce the significance I was placing on the evening star. Good try Dad but it was never going to work. The evening star was my mom and it was everything. Instead of me being weaned off my ritual of talking to Mom, my new found astronomical knowledge, courtesy of Dad, served to lengthen the amount of time we spent out on the porch. Some nights we were out there for hours.  
  
The nights when it rained sent Dad scurrying up to the attic to find his Astronomy books. If I couldn't see the evening star each night I became very unhappy. Dad would give me the books to "read" instead. Unfortunately I couldn't read and because the babies always seemed to know when it was raining and refused to settle, Dad didn't have time to read them to me himself.  
  
I asked Grandma to read to me instead.  
  
She made up some fabulous stories about the photographs in those books. She pretended the words told stories like Mom's star overlooking the earth at me and my brothers and the man in the moon stealing her from up in the sky to be with him forever.   
  
"I think the man in the moon is like my Daddy." I told Grandma as she "read" the story. "Daddy says he wants to forget about life and go and be with Mommy forever Grandma…" I paused. "I want to be with Mommy forever too."  
  
Grandma had tried not to look upset. Little did I realise how worried she was that Dad was on the brink of suicide.  
  
"You and your Daddy can't be going off together to be with Mommy like that. "she tried to say light heartedly. "Who's going to look after Grandma and your brothers?"  
  
I had shrugged. Like Dad, I only wanted to be with my Mom.  
  
  
  
Yes, Dad and I certainly struggled to cope in that first year of our dreadful grief. But I think I coped better than Dad did…  
  
It was Thanksgiving, the year our mother died.   
  
Before Mom died our family looked forward to the Thanksgiving holiday. Dad always made an effort to be home and Mom spent days cleaning the house and cooking special treats for the celebration. I experienced three of those celebrations but only vaguely remember the last one because it wasn't a happy one for Mom and Dad.   
  
I do remember Dad heading the table dressed in his best suit and Mom wearing a nice dress with her pretty curly hair framing her face. She was five months pregnant with Alan but was so thin and small Grandma said she couldn't even tell. As you can guess Grandma had come to visit from Kansas for Thanksgiving and she wore her best dress too. She proudly showed us the special ring Grandpa gave her the first Thanksgiving they were together and told us how Grandpa had said she was the thing he was most thankful for in the whole world. My brothers and I all had to wear good clothing and scrupulously wash before dinner. I particularly remember that bit because I hated it. Even my baby brother Gordon had been dressed up for the occasion.  
  
After the food Mom and Grandma had prepared, one by one Dad asked each person to stand up in front of the family and say what it was we were thankful for. This part went on for ages and Grandma raved on for nearly half an hour. Dad even raised his eyebrows at Scott at how "thankful" Grandma was being. Scott lowered his eyes and tried not to laugh and Mom caught them both. She frowned at Scott and then at Dad.   
  
Dad stood up then and said the main thing he was thankful for was that we still had heads above water considering things were on hold in the business and there was yet another baby coming.   
  
My memories of what followed after he said that are terrible.  
  
Mom lowered her head and started to cry about the coming baby because she felt responsible for the accident that had caused the pregnancy.   
  
Grandma glared at Dad for mentioning the baby when he knew Mom was unhappy about it.   
  
Dad looked at Grandma and said he didn't mean to sound like he didn't want the baby. He had only meant the pregnancy had been a shock.   
  
Grandma put her arm around Mom and assured her things would be all right once the baby came.   
  
Dad walked around the table to apologise, crouched beside Mom's chair and wiped her tears away with his handkerchief.  
  
  
  
Dad reassured Mom what Grandma said was true. Things would be all right once the baby came. He begged her to stop crying and stop worrying about their money troubles. He pointed out she needed to eat something otherwise the baby wouldn't grow properly.   
  
Mom said she didn't care and cried harder.  
  
Dad told her he loved her. He said he was sorry for the comment over and over again.  
  
I didn't have to speak that year which was good with all the drama going on but Dad warned me I had to speak the year I turned four and I had better start thinking of things to be thankful for.  
  
As it turned out things weren't all right once the baby came.   
  
Mom died and everything in our home, including Thanksgiving changed.  
  
Grandma reminded Dad one night over dinner that Thanksgiving was fast approaching and asked if he minded if she purchased a turkey and other trimmings for the celebration. Dad had simply looked at her. I still see his face.  
  
"This family has nothing to be thankful for at the moment." he'd replied indifferently. "Forget Thanksgiving Mom. I've got better uses for my money right now. Things are stretched to the limit as it is around here."  
  
Grandma had gone to say something and then didn't. Our meal continued in silence. The next morning after Dad had taken and Scott and Virgil to school Grandma told me to put on my shoes and fetch my coat. She dressed Gordon who was not quite two and then Alan who was eight months old. She put us in the car and took us to the shopping centre.  
  
It wouldn't have been easy for Grandma then. She struggled to juggle Gordon in the push chair, Alan on one hip and me beside her getting tireder by the minute.  
  
"Please be good for Grandma little one." she said to me as I started to complain at having to walk so far without a hand to hold. "That's a good boy."  
  
Grandma withdrew her own money from her bank account and went to the market to buy all the things we needed to celebrate Thanksgiving the way we always did. She stayed up the night before to prepare everything even though she was really tired from caring for the babies. She found Mom's best china plates in the back of the cupboard, searched for the good glassware and fussed about to set a beautiful table.  
  
On the day of the celebration she made an effort to put on a pretty dress and find that special ring of Grandpa's. She dressed up Alan and Gordon. She told Scott, Virgil and me to wash and go and find our best clothes and put them on. I'd grown out of mine since last year and didn't have any others but Scott searched about in Virgil's cupboard and found me something decent but rather oversized to wear.  
  
"You look real nice Johnny." he said to me lovingly as he did my tie. "Mommy would say so too if she was here to see you."  
  
I noticed him checking Virgil's tie and then watched him struggle to do his own. He looked at himself in the mirror to make sure it was straight. He wiped his eyes when he'd finished. Mom had always done his tie on Thanksgiving and this was the first year he'd had to do it for himself.  
  
When Dinner time came around, Grandma called Dad away from his study where he was working on a pretty important contract. She asked him to come to the table. Dad was dressed in an old shirt and a pair of well worn jeans that had certainly seen better days. He wasn't expecting to be celebrating Thanksgiving. He stopped at the door to the dining room and surveyed the beautiful table. He then looked at Grandma and each of us carefully and in silence.  
  
"What's all this then Mom?" he asked in a blunt and agitated tone.  
  
"Its Thanksgiving day son." she said to him. "Won't you join us?"  
  
Dad exploded at Grandma reminding her he'd said there was nothing for any of us to be thankful for this year. His children had lost their mother, he was struggling to make ends meet, he'd had to sell the farm to pay for Mom's funeral and here she was wasting what little spare money he did have on a stupid meal that counted for absolutely nothing.   
  
I wanted to pull on Dad's sleeve and tell him Grandma paid for everything but I was too frightened to speak to Dad sometimes let alone interrupt when he was angry over something. He stormed out of the house and left us alone with Grandma.  
  
Grandma only ever cried once in my sight and that was the day she did it. When Dad left she paled and stood in silence for a while before turning to us and trying to hide a voice shaking with disappointment and emotion.  
  
"Well. Daddy looks like he's not going to be able to join us this year. That's a shame isn't it? Never mind little ones let's rearrange things shall we? Scott, you can sit in Daddy's place since you're the oldest. Virgil you sit over there... and Johnny... would you like to sit in Mommy's place?"   
  
I looked over at the chair that had been conspicuously empty since March. I shook my head and sat in my own chair at the end of the table. I couldn't sit in Mommy's place. Nobody did.  
  
"Very well." she said with difficulty and I saw her beginning to break down. "Grandma will sit there instead. Is that all right with everyone?"  
  
None of us said anything.  
  
Grandma painstakingly served all the trappings of the meal she had lovingly prepared for us. All of us fiddled with the food on our plate, lacking an appetite thinking about Dad. Grandma didn't eat anything either. Alan did nothing but play with his food and every now and then grinned at Grandma as he caked even more gravy over himself. By the end his tiny blonde curls and his clothes were covered in it.  
  
Grandma took a sip of a brandy she'd poured for herself and stood up to address us.  
  
"Children, the Tracy family has a lot to be thankful for on this special day. We must remember unlike many people in this country we have food on our table and clothes on our back. We live in this comfortable home and we have the gift of each other. We are close and loving family. Now I'd like each of you to stand up and tell everyone around this fine table why you are truly thankful for the things you have in your life. This year I will be last since your Daddy is not here to take his rightful place and speak for the family."   
  
Everyone looked at Scott. He was the oldest and had always gone first after Grandma and Mom.  
  
Scott swallowed and rose to his feet. He looked around the table and fixed his eyes on Grandma.  
  
"Ummm..." he began in an unusually small voice."I am thankful that I'm in the fourth grade and learning to running write this year. Ummm...I'm thankful that I got another little brother this year. Ummm... I'm thankful that Daddy is getting better since Mommy died and ummm... ummm....I'm real thankful for you coming here from Kansas to live with us Grandma."   
  
Grandma eyes were teary but she smiled at him and asked Virgil to stand up. Virgil obeyed. He was six years old now but his eyes never left the floor. His voice was tinier than Scott's.  
  
"Ummm..I am also thankful for my new brother. He's real cute and has a nice smile." he said glancing at Alan who grinned back. " Ummm...I am real thankful that Daddy's letting me play Mommy's piano now. I haven't been allowed to play much since Mommy died. Ummm... I am also thankful Grandma 'membered Thanksgiving for us even though Daddy didn't want to come."  
  
He looked over at Grandma with tears in his eyes. "That's all I can think of Grandma." he said. "Can I please sit down now?"  
  
Now it was my turn; my first Thanksgiving to say out loud what I was thankful for. I stood up and looked at my brothers shyly. Gordon gave me a cheeky smile from his high chair across the table. He too was covered in food.   
  
"I am thankful for my Mommy being up in the sky at night where I can still see her." I said clearly and sincerely. "That's all Grandma."   
  
"What about your new little brother?" Grandma asked.  
  
I looked at Alan who was busy sucking his fingers after puddling around in his dinner.  
  
"No Grandma." I said honestly. "I am not thankful for him. I don't have my Mommy since I got Alan."  
  
Grandma looked at me in silence. Obviously I had said something wrong. I sat down and hung my head. Well I wasn't thankful for Alan and Dad had told us to always tell the truth.  
  
Now it was Grandma's turn. She stood up and looked around at us. She looked so pretty in her nice dress and Grandpa's expensive ring sparkled on her finger.  
  
"I suppose it's up to me then isn't it?" she said in an unsettled voice. "Well, here goes. I am thankful for most things I have received this year. I have been given a new little Grandson to love, at least I think that's what he is under that pile of gravy. I have been given a new life here in Boston with my five beautiful grandsons. I have been given a chance to help my brave and wonderful son work hard to rebuild his life ... and… his business... and..."  
  
Then it happened. Right there and then in front of us Grandma burst into tears. Scott, Virgil and I didn't know what to do but I followed Scott's lead and rose from my chair and hugged her. None of us had seen Grandma cry before and we all felt so bad she had gone to all this trouble and Dad had not been the least bit thankful for it.  
  
"So much has gone wrong with your Daddy little ones." she whispered and began to swallow hard to calm herself down. "I simply cannot believe his terrible grief has caused him to walk away from his babies on Thanksgiving. That poor young man has totally lost his way with his heart. I cannot be thankful for that."  
  
By the time Dad came home Grandma had calmed herself down and had started to become angry. Scott and Virgil were helping her clear the table and put everything away when he walked through the front door and slammed it shut. I was sitting in front of the television as he came inside. He told me to go to my room. As I walked obediently down the hall I heard him tell Scott and Virgil they had to go to their rooms too. He wanted a quiet word with Grandma.   
  
Grandma gave him more than he bargained for then that's for sure. His quiet word with Grandma turned out to Grandma's not so quiet word with him. Grandma is really dangerous to deal with when someone genuinely upsets her and that someone at the moment was Dad. She told Dad in no uncertain terms that he should stop dwelling on what he didn't have anymore and start being thankful for the things he still did have in his life like his five precious little boys who loved him dearly. The third of those little boys had made his very first thanksgiving speech today and he had walked away from him. What sort of Father was he becoming?   
  
"A bad one Jeff Tracy" she said. "That's what."  
  
Grandma did not accept his tearful explanation that he had gone to be with Mom at the cemetery to try to cope with how he felt seeing us around the beautiful table without her. Grandma said that was a load of hogwash and simply an excuse to wallow in self-pity. All she saw was a man who walked out on his family when his family had always been the most important thing in the world to him.  
  
Dad simply hung his head and apologised.   
  
"My family is the most important thing in the world to me Mom." he said. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Well Dad not coping at Thanksgiving was nothing compared to how he didn't cope with things the day Alan walked to him. After Alan took his first steps into Dad's outstretched arms, Dad held him tight and started to cry. I thought he was crying because now Alan would be even more of a nuisance than what he was already. But that wasn't the reason.  
  
Grandma told him once Alan walked it was time. He shook his head and said he couldn't do it. Not yet. She reminded him they had agreed to do it months ago and now he had to do it. No argument.  
  
Time for what I wondered as Virgil and I watched Grandma bring in twenty empty cardboard boxes she had been storing in the attic for quite some time.  
  
"Here boys." she huffed, handing each of us a box. "Cart these up to Daddy's room for Grandma will you."  
  
Both of us had obliged, Virgil having great fun trying to climb the stairs with the box over his head and me being ever so careful not to fall backwards and land with the box on top of me. The boxes were heavy.  
  
"These boxes would make neat cars for us to play in." Virgil said. "I wonder if we can have one. Can you ask Daddy for me Johnny?" he pleaded. "You know he'll say no if I ask him." he ended glumly.  
  
I didn't understand why Dad always said no to everything Virgil wanted. He was never like that before Mom died. I agreed to ask for the box. The thought of messing around in one of those boxes with Virgil sounded like fun.  
  
When we got to Dad's room we both paused at the door. We weren't allowed in Dad's room without permission. It was a rule and all of us always obeyed Dad.   
  
"Daddy?" I called peering around the door into the room. "Are you in there?"  
  
Dad came to the doorway. His eyes were red and swollen.  
  
"What son?" he asked in a voice full of grief.  
  
"Daddy. Grandma asked us to bring these boxes here for you." I said not taking my eyes off him. He had made a big effort not to cry in front of us since Thanksgiving and had tried really hard to make Christmas special even though Mom was gone. Christmas had been three months ago.  
  
I was worried what had made him start crying again. Then I remembered what Virgil wanted me to ask.   
  
"Daddy" I said in a tiny voice. "May we play with one please?"  
  
"No you may not." he snapped, his eyes welling up as he looked at Virgil. "They're not to play in. They're for your mother's things. Now the two of you go and play outside and leave me do what I have to do in here."  
  
With that Dad picked up the boxes and went back to what he was doing.  
  
Virgil was frightened of Dad's tone and obeyed immediately but I had heard what he said about my mother's things and walked inside Dad's bedroom behind him to see what he was doing. My heart fell at what I saw. On Dad's bed lay all that was left of my mother's life, her clothes, books, shoes, music and perfume. Next to the perfume lay a pile of pink baby clothing, the clothing purchased before my birth and kept through two later pregnancies in the vain hope that Dad might have given her a daughter.   
  
I felt my lips start to tremble as I realised what Dad was doing. He was disposing of my Mom's personal belongings...all of them. He began folding things lovingly and placing them in the boxes but as his emotions welled and the pain became unbearable, the items were treated more roughly and in the end he was sobbing tragically and simply throwing things in one on top of the other.  
  
I started to cry loudly when I saw him throw Mom's books into the box as if they never counted. Young as I was I still remembered how much she loved to read. Dad swung around on me demanding to know what I was still doing there when he'd given me a direct order to go outside with Virgil and play. He sounded like he was in the military again and I was being insubordinate. I cried louder at his tone and of course Grandma was up the stairs in ten seconds flat demanding to know what the matter was this time.   
  
She found me begging. "No Daddy" and Dad swallowing hard to control himself and demand between his own sobs that I leave the room and stop my nonsense. This was something that needed to be done and why couldn't I leave him alone in his misery to get it over with.  
  
"Johnny."she said gently. "Leave Daddy be. This is hard for him sweetie."  
  
Hard for him? Dad should have tried being four years old and watching his mother's things get thrown around like trash.   
  
She held out her hand. "Come along with Grandma child."  
  
As I took her hand she looked at Dad and asked quietly if he had enough boxes. Dad lowered his head and simply nodded.  
  
"Good." she said. "Get on with things Jeff and I'll make the arrangements to have them collected in the morning."  
  
Later that day, I sat on the couch and watched him carry the identical boxes down the stairs one at a time and set them on the porch. After the twentieth one was placed outside, Grandma stood beside the door waiting for Dad to come inside the house. When he did I noticed for the first time that at thirty six years old my Father looked ten years older than his age.  
  
Grandma looked at Dad in silence. Dad looked at her. His bottom lip began to tremble. Grandma slowly held out her arms to him. I watched as Dad threw himself into them and began to sob tragically.  
  
"Lucy's gone momma." he wept. "Now I know she's really gone."  
  
"Sweetie your little girl's been gone for over a year now. You know you needed to do this to move on." she soothed. "You and your little boys have to move forward in your lives now not live in the past."  
  
I've never seen anyone as heartbroken as my Father that day. Even three Scotches with Grandma didn't help. He sat desolately at the Dinner table eating nothing, saying nothing, acknowledging no-one.  
  
Grandma sent us all off to bed early.  
  
"Daddy needs to be alone." she told Virgil and me firmly as she turned out the light in our room. "Now I'm wanting you little ones to go to sleep for me and not carry on. I don't want him upset anymore today."   
  
I lay there for a while feeling sad for Dad but feeling sadder for myself. I didn't want Mom's things to be taken away. Dad had not allowed us in his room since Mom died because her things were still in the cupboards. They had her distinctive lavender scent on them and he didn't want us crying after her by smelling it. But little did he know Virgil and I often crept into his room while he was working to touch her clothing and smell the lavender. I ached for Mom's loving touch and somehow when I was near her clothing I felt it. Now that her things were boxed up downstairs I wouldn't be able to feel that any longer. And I wanted to.  
  
I got out of bed and went downstairs. Grandma was in the kitchen washing dishes and Dad was nowhere to be seen. I went out on the porch and opened two of the cartons. I took out five of Mom's books, her blue pullover and her lavender perfume. It was a lot for a four year old to carry but somehow I made it back upstairs.  
  
I placed the books in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I opened the perfume and as the scent rose my hands started to shake as I saw her face and felt her arms around me. I dropped it and it leaked all over the pullover. When you are only four years old and know you've just dropped a bottle of expensive perfume onto the carpeting, it's hard not to give yourself away. While I was trying to put the lid on the perfume in the dark, Virgil woke up. He got out of bed and turned on the night-light.  
  
"What are doing Johnny?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing." I began defensively.  
  
Virgil looked at the pullover and smelt the perfume.  
  
"They're mommy's things." he said his own eyes welling with tears. "You better put them back. Daddy won't let you keep them Johnny."  
  
"Yes he will." I said determinedly getting into bed with the pullover.  
  
"Well I want something too." he said. "It's not fair if you can have something of mommy's and I can't."  
  
I didn't notice or care that Virgil went down the hall to complain to Grandma. All I cared about was being close to my mother. As I caressed the soft blue wool of the pullover on top of the bed covers I breathed in her scent and for the first time in twelve months felt safe and warm and loved.  
  
Then into the room came Grandma with Virgil behind her. Grandma told me firmly I couldn't keep the pullover. It had to go back in the box and so did the perfume. She made no mention of the books but Virgil pointed out where they were. Grandma tried to get me to give up the pullover.  
  
"Mommy's gone John." she said gently. "And her things have to go now too sweetie."  
  
Well I didn't look like my mother but I had every inch of the Evans stubbornness in me. I point blank refused. Grandma threatened to get Dad knowing how much I feared his disapproval. Even that didn't deter me. There was no way I was giving up that pullover for anyone.  
  
Next thing I knew my Father was in the room courtesy of Virgil, emotionally spent and definitely in no mood for dealing with me. He smelt the lavender and exploded.  
  
"I've had enough of your nonsense today John." he spat tearing the pullover from my arms and dragging me to my feet. "When are you going to get it into your head that your mother's dead!"  
  
I started to scream as he gripped my shoulder and hauled me towards the bathroom. As he irately turned on the shower, Grandma reached out to grab his arm firmly. She growled in a low and angry voice.  
  
"Jeff please stop all this right now ." she warned. "Let the child go."  
  
I continued to scream hysterically as Dad's eyes met Grandma's.  
  
"You can't be wanting to do this to your little boy," she said a little more gently looking at the shower and easing Dad's hand from my shoulder. "Jeff, he's only a baby."  
  
I remember Dad's grip loosening as he stared and Grandma taking my hand in hers. I threw myself against her, completely terrified of my Father, shaking uncontrollably and still sobbing my heart out.  
  
I remember Dad swallowing hard and turning off the shower as he looked at me cowering against Grandma. His eyes clouded over with an incredible sadness that even a four year old recognised. He'd nearly made a terrible mistake.  
  
"Momma I'm on the edge at the moment and I truly can't take anymore of this drama today." he admitted to Grandma as the tears ran down his face. "You're right. He is only a baby. I'm sorry I lost my temper with him. Please... momma... please just clean the kid up for me will you and quieten him down. I'll put Lucy's things back in the box and wipe up the perfume he spilt on the carpeting."  
  
With that he turned and left the bathroom crying silently.   
  
Grandma knelt in front of me and clasped me to her as I continued to sob and sob and sob. I didn't open my eyes to look at anything. All I saw was my Father about to throw me clothes and all into the shower to get rid of the smell which reminded him of my mother. I simply cried and cried and cried as if I would never stop.  
  
"Shhh baby…. Shhhh now…don't cry." she comforted. "It's all right. Daddy wasn't going to hurt you. . Shhh little one…Come on now…Settle down…shh…."  
  
I took Grandma almost an hour to stop me crying I had been so frightened of Dad and so upset at losing the last physical evidence of my mother's existence. In that hour Grandma put me in the bath and gently washed me to remove the lavender smell. She dressed me in a new set of pyjamas and took me back to bed. She rocked me in her arms speaking to me tenderly.   
  
"Sweetie Daddy loves you very much and didn't mean to frighten you just now. He needs you to be a big boy and try to really understand Mommy isn't coming back. It was Grandma who asked Daddy to get rid of Mommy's things darling. You see Johnny I need his heart to get better so he can be happy again. "  
  
As I began to calm down she said very quietly.  
  
"Now Grandma is going downstairs to find you something special of mommy's to keep Johnny. But it has to be our secret all right?"  
  
I snivelled and nodded.   
  
Grandma came back with one of Mom's handkerchiefs. It was pretty and had her name on it.  
  
"Keep this in your pillowcase Johnny. "she said gently Daddy and your brothers won't ever know if we don't tell all right?"   
  
I nodded and looked lovingly at my Grandma.   
  
If no-one else understood, she did.  
  
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STARRY EYED  
  
After a very sad and traumatic childhood, more of which I don't care to divulge, I entered my teens. The evening of my thirteenth birthday was spent in Dad's room receiving a clinical lecture on the facts of life complete with a warning I was a Tracy son and I was expected to treat women with respect and protect myself if I ever got involved with one. At thirteen all this came as quite an eye-opener especially as I only spent my days listening attentively in school and my spare time reading about the stars, researching them and looking at them through my telescope. Girls had never even entered my head and here was Dad giving me graphic details about having sex with them.  
  
Astronomy was now my passion and I shared this passion with Dad. When Dad was home that is. He was a true workaholic now. Twenty hour days were nothing to him and his efforts had been well and truly rewarded. We were an extremely wealthy family. However I have to admit I'd rather have had a little less money and seen a lot more of Dad.  
  
Lucky for me I still had Grandma. Grandma was constantly on my back about eating more and trying to build myself up.  
  
"Lord knows your mother was right in saying you are nothing like your brothers." she'd exclaim as I picked at my dinner when everyone else had finished theirs. "It's no wonder you're a slight as you are. You eat like a sparrow John."  
  
I have to admit I was very slender in build even though I had the Tracy height. I still looked nothing like my two older brothers who had both grown into handsome young men and now had girls falling off them everywhere. I looked nothing like Gordon with his red hair and honey brown eyes. He's lucky I didn't act like him either the clown. The only brother I bore some resemblance to was my youngest brother who was nearly nine years old. Alan and I shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes. But that's all we shared.  
  
I detested him with a passion.  
  
No matter how much Grandma told me otherwise in my mind Alan had killed my mother. I had even gone so far as to say so when he was three years younger and received a huge reality check from Grandma for my efforts. Grandma said Alan did nothing of the sort. Yeah well I know that now but back then you can't blame a kid for thinking it. Your Mom goes to hospital to have a baby; you get dragged up to the hospital in the middle of the night to see her crying in a bed with wires hanging out of her, the baby comes home and they put your Mom in a white box and bury her right in front of your eyes. Someone had to be responsible and as far as I was concerned it was Alan.  
  
OK Grandma for what it's worth I know Alan didn't kill Mom. It was medical negligence. But I still don't like the kid despite it. If I had a least favourite brother he's it. He's an obnoxious and obstinate brat.  
  
So can anyone explain to me why I always stuck up for him around Dad and took the blame for everything he did wrong? Even I don't know the answer to that one! It's the eighth wonder of the world.  
  
I was a true middle child in my teens. I didn't stand out except if someone began to talk about astronomy. Then I took centre stage. There wasn't much I didn't know about that subject. I loved the stars and everything to do them. Needless to say Dad encouraged me in my interest and even started to talk to me about a career in NASA. I listened with interest.  
  
I followed in Scott and Virgil's footsteps in Junior High and then moved into High school. High School is where I learnt my first lesson in love. Physical love anyway. It was an experience I will never forget and not for the reasons you're thinking of either.  
  
My first time with a girl was a first time for me in more ways than one. Not only was it the first time I ever experienced the pleasure of the act, it was the first time I ever smoked and the first and last time I ever got suspended from school. Luckily Dad didn't tell Grandma why I was suspended. At least I don't think he did. No I'm sure he didn't. If Grandma knew what happened with Jasmine Andrews I would have more than just known about it. She would have killed me.  
  
Being a Tracy son and following in Scott and Virgil's footsteps was hard.  
  
Scott had been the big man on campus, remembered for his academic and athletic abilities. Virgil had a presence about him too. He wasn't as well renowned as Scott but he had still been tall, handsome and mysterious as well as cutting the impressive figure of sportsman and academic achiever.  
  
But I was the middle child. I wasn't the big man on campus. I wasn't anyone special. I did well in school but could only be termed as academically gifted not brilliant. I definitely wasn't overly athletic but I enjoyed fencing and other non-contact sports. I was tall like Scott and Virgil, but had the distinct advantage of being blonde haired and blue eyed…and the son of a billionaire.   
  
And those three things attracted Jasmine.  
  
"Hey Tracy," she said to me one recess period as I sat alone reading an astronomy book. "What are you reading?"  
  
I haven't told you about Jasmine Andrews yet and boy there is a heck of a lot to tell too. I think I'd better say a couple of things before I go too far into what happened to me when I had my first experience as a man.  
  
My only defence to my Father at the time is my only defence to you and it would also be my only defence to Grandma if she found out. I was innocently led along by Jasmine Andrews and whilst I know I went willingly I truly did not realise what I was getting myself into with her until it was too late.  
  
You see Jasmine Andrews was a lady of the world. She was experienced in every sense of the word.  
  
She was in my science and Math classes. She was extremely pretty and "very" well developed for a sixteen year old. In addition to her physical attractiveness she was outgoing, outspoken and quite frankly "out there" if you want to talk about where life is taking you.  
  
She usually hung around the footballers and had developed quite a reputation amongst them for her "outgoing" nature if you know what I mean.   
  
It came as quite a surprise when she wanted to talk to someone like me. I was her complete opposite, quiet, unassuming and inexperienced.  
  
I was always polite and attentive to any girls I encountered in the course of my day to day existence. My brothers and I were expected to be polite to everyone but at Dad's insistence we had to be particularly polite to women.   
  
At that point in my life I didn't have a girl-friend by my own choice. I hadn't actively pursued one in High School simply because I didn't have the time between astronomy, reading and studying. Neither did I need the distraction. I wanted to make something of myself and Dad had warned me I needed to excel in High School if I wanted to be accepted into Harvard.   
  
The two of us struck up a very pleasant conversation that afternoon. She asked about what life was like being the son of a billionaire. I said money didn't count for anything in our family and life was no different for me than for anyone else. I told her our Grandma still expected us to do our chores around the house. I said we had to take out the trash, wash and dry the dishes and mow the lawn for Dad.   
  
She said she couldn't believe we didn't have servants to do all those things for us.  
  
"Dad has a Retainer." I said. "But Mr. Kyrano just oversees things. He looks after Dad's diary and sees to the marketing. We still have to do our share of things in the house."  
  
"Oh." she shrugged sounding disappointed. "I thought rich kids didn't do chores."  
  
Obviously Jasmine didn't know my Grandma. I'd had a Math test two days before and couldn't do my allocated chore because I was studying. I'd asked Gordon to do it for me but he'd forgotten. Grandma literally dragged me out of bed close to midnight to dry the dishes.  
  
"You know you have responsibilities young man." she'd flashed. "There's no excuse for your laziness. Are you hearing me? Things just don't get done by themselves around here you know."  
  
Jasmine then started asking me about my Dad. She wanted to know if he had a girl-friend. I shrank within myself and became defensive.  
  
"No. My Dad's never had a girl-friend." I replied. "He only ever had Mom."  
  
She had said flippantly.  
  
"Yeah but billionaires always have women falling all over them. I've seen your Dad. He has to have a girl-friend. How old is he?"  
  
I replied my Father was forty-eight last birthday. She said he had to have a girl-friend hiding somewhere with his looks. Men that age needed women. She asked me if he worked late in the evening. I said yes. She asked if he didn't come home at all sometimes. I said yes, Dad often rang from the Office and said he was working right through the night. She told me it was only an excuse because he had other places he'd rather be other than at home. He had a woman all right.   
  
"After all" she said. "Your Dad can't bring a woman home with him with your Grandma in the house."  
  
I was quite taken back by her worldly assumptions but I was sure I knew Dad better than she did. Grandma used to hint to Dad he should start dating again but Dad shook his head and said dating didn't interest him any more. He'd only ever love my Mom.   
  
"No Jasmine." I ended up replying. "I can assure you my Dad doesn't have a girl-friend."  
  
Then the clincher.  
  
"What about you John? Do you have a girl-friend?"  
  
I said no, I had been too busy for girls since getting to High School. I explained to her about wanting to get into Harvard and my aspirations for myself once I graduated. I said there would be plenty of time for women after I went to College. It was funny. When I said those words I reminded myself of my Father. That was definitely something he would say.  
  
"It's a shame your good looks are being wasted." she said, twirling her long blonde hair around her middle finger and looking at me in a way no girl I had ever talked to had looked. I had studied books on body language the previous summer and the language her body was giving me spelt the message out loud and clear. Jasmine was interested in getting to know me better.  
  
If I wasn't so stupid I would have realised she didn't give a hoot about me. She was only keen to be involved with a Tracy son for a set purpose and only my Dad and I know what that purpose was. If Grandma ever found out why Jasmine Andrews wanted to make my "personal acquaintance" I'd never hear the end of it.  
  
Anyway one thing led to another to use the phrase which is so popular around here when things go wrong. Over the next three days she dressed in a way she knew would attract my attention. It's hard not to notice someone whose skirt is up to here and blouse is cut down to there. She teased me with innuendo during recess and always made sure I was looking before she conspicuously bent over during Math class in her super short skirt to "pick up her pencil".  
  
Her efforts started to achieve their desired intention. Despite my aspirations of future greatness, I was first and fore mostly male and all this was awakening all sorts of feelings and desires I never knew I had. My mind went back to what Dad had told me at thirteen, if I ever got involved with a girl I had to protect myself.  
  
I really knew nothing about what a man was supposed to do. I'd read books of every type over the years but certainly never a book on that subject. I guessed things would just come naturally if it ever got that far. Well let me tell you Jasmine made damn sure of that.  
  
Her seduction of me was finally complete on the fourth day. As we sat side by side in the Cafeteria at lunch-time her left hand wandered underneath the table. I coloured beetroot red when I realised what she was up to and how I was reacting to it. What made things worse was my brother Gordon sitting at the next table with two of his freshmen buddies.  
  
"Jasmine, not here." I said embarrassed. "It's not appropriate."  
  
"Where then?" she breathed. "The gym?"  
  
I don't know what the hell was in my head when I said this but I suggested we both cut the next class and agreed to use the gym. I knew there were no classes set down for the gym in the afternoon so we would be pretty safe there. I'd never cut a class in my entire life but I simply had to at that moment. Well what else is a guy supposed to do? I couldn't take this build up of steam inside me any more.   
  
I'd never cut a class in my life but I did that day. I really found myself up to my neck in it then. Jasmine led me into the storeroom where the gym mats were stored. She'd obviously planned the whole thing because from underneath the last one she pulled out two joints. She lit hers and handed one to me.  
  
"No thanks. I don't smoke." I said and meant it. I was prepared to give up my innocence but not smoke dope at school.  
  
"You don't cut class and make out either." she said exhaling the smoke. "Try it John. It'll help you relax."  
  
Again I don't know what I was thinking or not thinking but I did what she said as if I had no control over the matter. I coughed and spluttered a bit but after a while it definitely had the desired effect. Before I knew it my clothes were strewn across the floor and I, John Glenn Tracy, at seventeen years of age was about to become a man.  
  
Now my Father is a very powerful person who gets his point across every time he makes it. You know better than to ignore his point too. I might have been half dazed from the joint but Dad's lecture to me at age thirteen still reared up clearly in my mind.  
  
I had to protect myself.  
  
Luckily for me I had anticipated this was the direction things were heading with Jasmine and I had the required protection in my jacket pocket. Jasmine shook her head.  
  
"No I don't want you to wear that." she said.  
  
"I have to." I said feeling quite taken back. I thought she'd appreciate the fact I was being responsible.   
  
Not Jasmine. She said it would spoil things for her and she'd rather I didn't use it. She said I'd be safe enough. I'll leave it up to you to guess at this particular point who I took notice of ... my sensible Father or a naked Jasmine Andrews.  
  
However protection was one thing. Being caught was another. Not thirty seconds after I had released all the steam that had been building courtesy of Jasmine Andrews, the door to the small room opened. Standing there dumbfounded was both the Principal and the Janitor. They had come down to the gym expecting to assess the condition of the floor mats. They hadn't expected to find model student John Tracy cutting class, butt naked as the day he was born and reeking of dope.  
  
Both of us were ordered to the Principal's Office and our parents were called. As the Principal made the call to my Father I sank lower and lower in the chair facing him. Dad was going to kill me.  
  
The Principal asked me to wait outside while he dealt with Jasmine. My Father said he would be there in fifteen minutes. Then he would deal with me.  
  
You have no idea how sick I felt waiting for Dad's car to pull up in the drive and what it was like to be an errant Tracy son after the Principal finished speaking to him. I was asked by both Dad and the Principal where I'd gotten the joints. What could I say? Jasmine had told the Principal they were mine and Dad was too angry to consider believing me when I said they weren't. I was then asked why I cut Math. What a stupid question. It was obvious why wasn't it? I was asked if I knew this type of behaviour was unacceptable. I lowered my head and said yes. Then I was suspended for a whole week on threat of expulsion if it ever happened again.  
  
Dad was furious and said over and over to me he couldn't believe he'd had to be called up to a Principal's Office to discuss the behaviour of one of his sons. He grilled me over and over about the joints and made it quite clear it was the first and last time I'd ever be trying anything like that. He had a lot to say about Jasmine too and even more about jeopardising my place at Harvard by being suspended from school.   
  
The week I spent at home doing errands for Dad was brutal as each errand was accompanied by a lecture on morals and it was made all the worse with Grandma asking me all the time why I had been suspended.  
  
"I got a little physical in the gym Grandma." was all I told her hoping she'd think I'd inadvertently decked someone during a basketball game.   
  
She gave me that look of hers which worried me because it was the look which usually meant, "I know the real story."  
  
"Well I hope you've learnt to keep your hands to yourself in future." she said cocking an eye at me before heading off to the kitchen shaking her head.  
  
However if you think my first experience ended with only a suspension from school you are mighty wrong. The worst was yet to come.  
  
Seven weeks later I came home from school to be confronted at the door by Dad. He was livid. I've seen my Father angry over the years believe me but never as angry as he was at me that day. He demanded I go straight into his Office but I hadn't taken two steps inside the front door before he rounded on me in absolute fury, grabbed me by the arm, dragged me down the hall, and virtually threw me into the chair in front of his work desk. As I struggled to sit upright in the chair he slammed the door to the Office so hard it nearly fell of its hinges.  
  
"You've got some fast explaining to do to me boy." he thundered with a face of stone. "Mighty fast."  
  
I looked up at Dad totally dumbfounded. What did I have to explain? I hadn't been brave enough to even blink the wrong way since I'd been allowed back at school after my suspension. I got up in the morning, went to school, listened attentively, came home, did my homework, did my chores and went to bed. I hadn't even watched television or considered looking through my telescope.   
  
Dad shoved a paper in my face. It looked official.  
  
"Read it!" he demanded and then paced the room as I did so. I began to pale as I read each line. By the time I reached the end I felt totally sick. The letter was from an attorney acting for Jasmine Andrews' Father. The letter stated Jasmine was pregnant and I was responsible. The letter was seeking compensation from Dad and lots of it.   
  
My blue eyes flew to my Father's in absolute horror.   
  
"Well?" he seethed. "What have you got to say for yourself?"   
  
"Dad… It wasn't me." I said hardly able to get the words out I was so traumatised. "Honest."  
  
Dad went off like a rocket. He said of course it had to be me. I was caught in the act by the Principal in case I'd forgotten. He angrily demanded to know why I hadn't protected myself and said this was exactly why I needed to do it.  
  
"Love is supposed to make children not stupidity, "he yelled in my shrinking ears. "You're only seventeen years old John. You're far too young to be a Father. What the hell were you thinking at the time? Nothing obviously by what I'm reading from this Attorney."  
  
I tried to get a word in edgewise which is extremely difficult when Jeff Tracy gets going on anything. He absolutely railed at me. I didn't know what I was more afraid of, him or the prospect of becoming a Father when I had wanted to go to Harvard.  
  
"That's it with College now you realise that don't you?" he roared. "You'll have to come and work for me straight out of High School. I'm not having any of this compensation twaddle. You'll have to stand by the girl and marry her. I can't believe you could be so blasted stupid John. I've had to call in my attorney now too. He's on his way over here to discuss what can be done do to get you out of this damn mess."   
  
Finally he took a break to breathe.  
  
"Dad," I pleaded. "I did protect myself. I'm telling you the truth."  
  
"You can't have used the thing properly then." he barked at me. "If you did this wouldn't have happened."  
  
"Dad I did." I insisted. "Jasmine told me not to but I said I had to. I did Sir."  
  
"Well it should never have happened in the first place. I send you to school to learn with your brain not experiment with your body. I hope you're damned well pleased with yourself. You just wait until your Grandmother hears about this. It's going to be living hell around here."  
  
I read the letter again. The document was my death warrant. I couldn't believe Jasmine had ended up pregnant.   
  
"Dad." I said hoping for one last time he would listen to me. "It wasn't me. I swear it couldn't be."  
  
"Did you have sex with the girl or not?" he snapped.  
  
"Yes Sir I did." I admitted shamefully.  
  
"Well it is you. Face up to your responsibilities. Like I said to you at thirteen, sex and stupidity don't mix, particularly in the Tracy family. Stupidity costs money John."   
  
The next few days were the worst days of my life. Not only was Dad furious to the point of homicide, I had to deal with the fact that even though I wouldn't finish High School for six more months my life path was now laid out for me. I would be going to work for Dad instead of going to College, getting married to a girl I didn't even like and being a Father to a baby.   
  
Grandma didn't help things by adding to the stress and asking why Dad's attorney was over at the house every five minutes and hauling me into his study for yet another interview.  
  
"Nothing's come of that gym incident I hope." she said in a worried tone. "I told you should have kept your hands to yourself young man."   
  
"Yes ma'am I know." I gulped, still clinging to the vain hope she didn't know what had happened.  
  
My Dad's ruthlessness as a businessman certainly stood him in good stead when dealing with this situation. Acting on advice from his Attorney he demanded Jasmine underwent three independent tests to assess the duration and paternity of her pregnancy. Dad agreed to pay for all Jasmine's expenses. The attorney then instructed I undergo the necessary paternity tests.  
  
I panicked. I thought I'd have to provide "samples" and cringed at the thought of it. Dad said to quit my complaining. It was my fault I gotten into this mess and I'd better damned well co-operate with his Attorney to try to get myself out of it. Fortunately I only had to endure blood and saliva tests from some independent and very condescending Doctor. I didn't dare complain about how painful the blood tests were but let me say wherever that Doctor went to medical school he didn't pay attention on how to take blood samples.  
  
Dad insisted on sending the samples to at least five different laboratories across the States. He wanted to be absolutely sure. I've never seen him act so hard-nosed about anything.  
  
"I didn't Father Jasmine's baby." I told myself over and over again as I sat at the Dinner table eating nothing for three consecutive nights. "I did everything Dad told me to do."   
  
Anyway under pressure of impending medical results Jasmine broke down during the third test. She confessed she was thirteen weeks pregnant, not seven and I wasn't the Father of the baby. She wasn't sure but she thought it was Randy Olsen, the Captain of the Football team. Asked why she had accused me she said between sobs she had suspected she was pregnant and decided the easiest way out was to involve herself with a Tracy son. The Tracy name meant money and she knew it. Number three Tracy son was na?ve and she knew that too. She said pointing the finger at me would have given her a secure financial future for herself and the baby.   
  
It all fell into place for me then. No wonder the swift and complete seduction; no wonder she didn't want me to protect myself. I couldn't believe a girl could be so manipulative and I certainly learnt a very valuable lesson about what a woman can do to a man if he isn't careful. However she had come unstuck. She hadn't taken into account the tenacity of my Father.  
  
Despite my relief at being proven innocent, Dad continued to fume. This whole situation had cost him a lot of money and a heck of a lot of stress. He stated in no uncertain terms I had better keep my trousers zipped up in the future if I knew what was good for me.  
  
He didn't have to tell me twice. I suffered enough anxiety during that period to last me a lifetime.  
  
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STARMAN  
  
After a very traumatic Senior Year in High School Dad was both relieved and pleased when I was accepted into Harvard and commenced my studies in Laser and Communications.  
  
I loved every moment of College and decided to accelerate my degree by taking additional subjects in the vacation periods. I really wanted a career in NASA. I wanted to experience the stars first hand as my Father had done before me. I hit the books and studied hard.  
  
All the additional study meant I very rarely saw my family and I had to admit I missed everyone very much. I might have been the middle child and felt I counted for nothing but deep down inside I knew I was part of a warm and wonderful family who'd been though a lot over the years.  
  
Grandma worried about me as usual and called me most days of the week to see if I was eating right. We talked about my studies and my astronomy passion. I told Grandma I was writing a book on the subject and she got herself all excited at what she called my "quiet unassuming talent."  
  
Grandma still kept her eye on me even though I was a long way from home. Her telephone calls always started or ended with what became her very famous line, "I hope you're still keeping your hands to yourself John."   
  
I'd always laugh nervously and say, "Grandma I don't have time to visit any gyms these days, I'm too busy."  
  
She'd finish the warning with, "You should know you don't have to be in a gym to get yourself into trouble young man."  
  
I wished sometimes she'd just come clean and tell me she knew about Jasmine and the paternity tests but I sure as hell wasn't going to ask her. I didn't even tell Scott about it and I had always told him everything.  
  
I really missed my older brothers. Scott was now in Nevada and Virgil was in Denver.   
  
Virgil called every now and then and we talked and joked together. I told him about my course. He told me about his. I said I spent my spare time writing and told him of my intention to publish an astronomy book. He said he spent his playing the piano at a local bar. He confided in me he had met a beautiful young girl named Katelyn. I said I didn't have time for women.   
  
Scott and I talked often. Despite the fact he was following in Dad's footsteps by choosing a career in the Air Force after College, he followed Dad a little too closely in everything else too. He was my second Father and he couldn't help himself worryng.  
  
"You doing OK Johnny?" he'd ask with genuine concern. "Do you need help with anything?"   
  
I'd reply I was fine but it was reassuring to know he was there for me if I needed him.  
  
As for my younger brothers; I really missed Gordon's constant smile and his stupid idiotic pranks but I'd be lying if I said I missed Alan. Mr. Big Shot was a freshman in High School now and from what Gordon was telling me he was making his presence well and truly felt with his brattish behaviour and continual aggravation of the Teaching Staff. Gordon said Alan had already been suspended once and the Principal had likened him to me. I was angry about that for days. What an insult. I'm a lot of things and I know I made a mistake with Jasmine but I will say this slowly, clearly and distinctly so there is never any doubt in your mind; "I am nothing... do you hear me... absolutely nothing whatsoever like my brother Alan."  
  
As my second year in College progressed I must admit I forgot about what happened with Jasmine long enough to take an active interest in women again. However I did so with great trepidation and extreme care. I dated many girls in College, some in particular I really liked and four or five actually got to the stage where I was prepared to risk physical love again. When I did I made damn sure I was totally protected almost to the point of being ridiculous.  
  
The words "Oh you're the billionaire's son." became a natural contraceptive as I refused to trust anyone who said it. At the height of a passionate encounter if a girl whispered to me I didn't need to protect myself and what I was wearing spoilt things, I became agitated and ended up spoiling things for both of us. My fear of paternity really ruined a heck of lot of pleasurable experiences I could have had during my College years let me tell you.   
  
Those few who got past my barriers of self-preservation by not referring to me as Jeff Tracy's son and not complaining about my passion for protection then reached the toughest barrier of all.   
  
My heart.   
  
Only two girls ever got close to my heart and I couldn't bring myself to further my relationship with either of them. I couldn't say the words "I love you" no matter how deeply I felt. The last person I had trusted with my fragile emotion of love was Mom and she had left me as a devastated three year old to cope without her.  
  
I started to wonder if I had some sort of emotional deficiency despite the fact I kept telling myself there was nothing wrong with me. After all I could hold a woman close, kiss her passionately, make love to her and do all the things a man did for a woman. I just couldn't form the final emotional attachment which allowed me to get close to one.  
  
"Grandma's theory" came back into my mind and I wondered after twenty-one years if maybe she had been right after all. Something might have happened to Dad's genetic make-up on the moon and as result there was something badly wrong with me. I had been a difficult baby, a painful toddler, an emotional child, a traumatised teenager and now, a man who couldn't bring himself to do what was necessary to ensure he found himself a life-mate.   
  
Needless to say no-one stays around for long with someone who can't relate to them properly. Both of my special relationships ended within a year of them beginning and this left me very confused and very, very unhappy.  
  
I thought about attending counselling but in the end decided against it. Counsellors cost a lot of money and I was extremely mindful of wasting Dad's money after what I had put him through with Jasmine. The cost of me attending Harvard was astronomical enough without Dad paying someone to tell me what was already obvious. The loss of the woman who was the centre of my world all those years ago and the way I had been forced to deal with losing her had well and truly screwed up my emotions. I somehow knew if Mom wouldn't have died I would have been a different person. There would have been no Jasmine incident as Dad probably wouldn't have worked himself to half to death trying to forget Mom and hence never accrued the amount of wealth he did. Who knows how life would have panned out for our family if we still had our Mother. I often wonder about that.  
  
All I know is I was feeling mighty low when I returned to New York for Christmas in the year I turned twenty. I decided to talk to my own no-nonsense Counsellor and she wouldn't cost Dad a cent.   
  
Grandma.  
  
Christmas was a disaster that year. I'd come home feeling lower than a cut snake and moped around the house barely talking to anyone. Virgil came home devastated about some stupid theatrical performance he'd offended Dad with and hardly said a word either. Dad wasn't even talking to Virgil until Christmas Eve when Grandma forced the two of them to make peace for the sake of everyone else.   
  
Virgil added to the stress by refusing to play the piano on Christmas Day, saying he'd given it up because it offended Dad. As for his majesty, the whinging baby brother, it was well and truly on as far as he and Dad were concerned. Dad had informed him he would be going to College in Colorado the following year and Alan was digging his heels in and saying there was no way in hell he was going to College let alone in Colorado. They argued all Christmas day before Dad decided he'd had enough of the little upstart and put him in his place. Alan was headed for Colorado and that was that.  
  
The only sane ones in the house were Scott on vacation from the Air Force and Gordon who was on a brief leave of absence from WASP. Even Gordon came home feeling uneasy about what Dad would have to say to him. We all knew Dad didn't approve of his career choice especially as he had turned his back on College in the same way Alan was attempting to do. But Dad had his hands full with the brat's performance about having to go to College so he didn't have time to dwell on what Gordon was doing much to his relief.   
  
  
  
As for me, I sought out the quiet solace of my Grandma. If ever I needed her love and reassurance it was now. I found it a few days after Christmas when I inadvertently stumbled upon her sitting alone in front of the downstairs fireplace in the early hours of the morning. I had come downstairs to fetch a glass of water, unable to sleep. The lounge room was deathly quiet and there was no light in the room other than the fire burning down low. I walked over to stoke it up on my way back through from the kitchen when her voice sounded behind me.  
  
"Can't you sleep sweetie?" she asked quietly watching me nearly jump out of my skin in fright.  
  
"Grandma!" I exclaimed. "You scared me half to death! What are you doing up?"  
  
She looked at me and sipped her cognac.  
  
"The same reason as you no doubt. Can't sleep with all the happenings around here." she said in a small tired voice. She patted the comfortable space beside her on the couch. "Come sit with me for a bit Johnny. I'd appreciate the company."  
  
I nodded and sat down beside her, placing my glass on the antique table in front of us. We both stared into the fire.  
  
"You're unhappy about something aren't you John?" she asked quietly without looking at me.  
  
I was surprised she asked me that. Was I really that transparent? Was my unhappiness so noticeable? Dad and Scott hadn't picked up there was anything wrong. But I guessed this was Grandma and I'd long since given up trying to figure out how Grandma sensed things. It was also pointless trying to lie to her and besides I really needed to confide in someone.   
  
"Yes Grandma," I admitted quietly. "I've got a few things on my mind."  
  
She waited expectantly for me to continue and when I didn't she put down her glass and took off her glasses.  
  
"Darling, you know you can tell Grandma anything don't you?"  
  
I nodded silently.  
  
"Anything." she reiterated firmly.  
  
When I still didn't say anything she patted my hand.  
  
"Lord knows you're like your Father." she began. "You don't look like him but you sure as hell are a young Jeff Tracy in the making."  
  
I looked at her with eyes that didn't believe a word she said. Me like Dad? Not very likely! I had this picture in my head of what Dad would have been like at my age and the picture was that of a confident, capable young man who related well to everyone.  
  
"Your Daddy never said much to anyone as a youngster." she said sensing my disbelief. "He kept pretty much to himself after finishing High School. Yep…worked the farm with his Father barely saying two words from sunup to sundown seven days a week. Shy around girls too. Your grandfather used to think there was something wrong with him. But you know Johnny despite everything I never had any doubt about him. I always said one day he would be a leader. Took him until he got into the Air Force and found his feet but I was right. He was born to lead and look at him now."  
  
I smiled wanly and lowered my eyes but as I did Grandma continued.  
  
"Then NASA found him and there wasn't any turning back for that boy. Not many young men can be a Major at twenty five years of age, walk on the moon at thirty, and be a millionaire at thirty one. You're heading that way too son and I know your Father is very mindful of your talent and he's making sure he's pushing all the right buttons to make sure you get the chance to do it."  
  
"Grandma, "I began. "It's not my career…it's…"  
  
"And as for his love for your momma." she interrupted. "Completely turned his Tracy heart inside out and back to front that girl. Never seen a man fall for a woman quite so bad as he did. Changed him overnight. Couldn't even look at a girl once. All of a sudden he's got five strapping young sons around him. Funny how fate changes things John."  
  
She picked up her glass.  
  
"Now tell me child. What's on your mind?" she asked. "You've been mighty quiet since arriving back here from College."  
  
"Grandma " I began." Do you think … well... do you think there's something not quite right with me?" I asked with trepidation.  
  
I could see her mind ticking over and imagined she was thinking about her "theory" again.   
  
"No I think you're all there." she said after a long while. "Why John, do you know something I don't about yourself?"  
  
I sighed loudly and it all tumbled out of me, every last painful detail of it; my difficulties in relating, the break-down of my close relationships, my inability to love a woman with all of my heart."  
  
Throughout my tirade she listened quietly and when I had finished she said matter of factly.  
  
"John, like your Daddy you will find things will change when you eventually meet the woman who will be your wife. This may sound silly to you sweetie but when your mother put the love in your Daddy's heart, the passion for her began to burn in his eyes. She brought out the real man in him John. He was able to love her openly and I know this sounds dreadful coming from your Grandma but physical love between a man and a woman when they are in love is a truly wonderful thing. Your wife will do that for you too. Give yourself time to find her sweetie. Trust me, there's nothing wrong with you son. You are only twenty years old. Your Daddy didn't find your momma until he was twenty-four and heck more experienced in life than you. "   
  
I nodded. I guessed she was right.  
  
"But you mind yourself in the meantime." she frowned in mock disapproval. "When that little girl finds you make sure you're going to be worth finding."   
  
I looked at her and smiled; my first truly happy smile in a long time. I kissed her forehead and she embraced me tenderly in front of the fire.  
  
"I'll be worth finding Grandma. Thank you for the advice." I whispered.  
  
"You're welcome John." she replied.  
  
As I stood up to return to my room she called after me in the darkness.  
  
"John."  
  
I turned back.  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"When you do find that special little girl, remember what happened to your momma won't you? Take nothing for granted son."  
  
I nodded silently but didn't need that piece of advice. I had never forgotten what had happened to mother.  
  
I returned to Harvard and my studies and graduated with first class honours after only three years in College. Dad's chest swelled with pride at my graduation and I think it is the first and only time in my life I ever recall Dad saying he was proud of me. Dad saying that meant more to me than anything else in the world. I felt like John Glenn Tracy counted in the Tracy family instead of simply being the middle child, quietly following the brilliance of Scott and Virgil and reluctantly leading the rabble known as Gordon and Alan.  
  
The Chancellor at Harvard took the time to speak with me personally after my graduation ceremony. He congratulated me in front of Dad on the books published under my name in my final year, my brilliant work in astronomy and my commitment to excellence in the faculty. He told me if I ever wished to return to Harvard as a Lecturer I would be very welcome. My graduation day, a few months after my twenty first birthday ,was the happiest day of my life.  
  
With such a glowing academic record and Dad's word in the right ears in NASA, I soon commenced my career as an Astronaut. I was following in Dad's ultimate footsteps. I excelled in my training and before long I experienced my first flight into space. I worked in NASA for almost three years and whilst I was there heard some mighty interesting perceptions about where my Father would have ended up if he hadn't resigned when he did to go into business. Many said he would have ended up heading the whole United States Space Programme he had been so talented. What a shame he'd left NASA as a young man they all said. They touted me as having the same potential as my Father which shocked but nevertheless pleased me greatly. I decided I would prove to my Father I could be every bit as good, if not better than he was.  
  
Then I got the call.....  
  
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INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
Words cannot describe how a man feels when he has finally found himself a direction and purpose in his life after years of uncertainty and someone he loves comes along and wants him to change things.   
  
The day Dad called me and told me of his plans for International Rescue I must admit you could have hit me on the head with a hammer and got a better reaction. This whole thing had cost Dad billions of dollars to set up and as with everything Dad did, it was planned down to the last detail. He'd missed one important detail however; the willingness of his sons to man it for him. Not all his sons I might say.   
  
Just me.  
  
I listened in silence as he told me Scott would be leaving his high ranking position in the Air Force to take on the role of Chief Pilot. He added my two youngest brothers had agreed to come on board as well. Yeah right Dad as if they'd have a say in it anyway. He had yet to talk to Virgil. He was asking me to resign from NASA and be one of his Astronauts. The other? None other than my least favourite brother Alan. Dad said Alan had shown excellent potential and with maturity and experience would eventually be every bit as good as I was. I felt like Dad had slapped my face with that news. What an insult. Basic training, no brains, impetuous as hell and a brat into the bargain. No way was I being involved in that deal. I was happy in NASA. I counted here as Major John Tracy. Who would I be if I resigned? Nobody except Mr. John Glenn Tracy, middle son of billionaire businessman Jefferson Tracy. A nobody. The other Astronaut.   
  
I told Dad I wasn't interested and if nothing else I ever did floored him, that did. His silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Then he railed at me. I listened without a word.  
  
At twenty four years of age, I had finally shaken off my dreadful childhood and had become a man in my own right. Dad told me I owed him. I knew I did. He pointed out if he hadn't saved my ass with Jasmine Andrews I'd never have made it to Harvard let alone NASA. I knew that too. He asked me where my sense of family was. I replied I needed a sense of myself. I said no again.  
  
He hung up on me.  
  
I waited for another call but another call didn't come. Not from Dad anyway. It didn't even come from Grandma. It came from my brother Virgil.  
  
Words can't describe the extent and intimacy of the conversation I had with my older brother that day.  
  
Virgil confided in me Dad had asked him to join International Rescue last. Virgil said he knew someone had to be last but he felt it was because he looked so much like Mom and Dad still couldn't deal with it. He said it was obvious who was the least favourite son. I laughed bitterly and said if he was the least favourite, he'd just been superseded. I had taken his place with my refusal to co-operate..   
  
I confided in Virgil that I liked my life in NASA and told him I wanted to work towards a high ranking position. I said I knew I could get there with hard work. He said I had always worked hard and most likely would get there as with everything else I did. He confided in me how unhappy he was as a pilot and said how desperately he wanted to pursue the arts. He said he only became a pilot to please Dad and in doing so had lost Katelyn. The price he had paid for Dad's approval was high and like me, he still didn't have it despite his sacrifices.  
  
"At least you had Katelyn for a time." I said bitterly. "I've never managed to find anyone. And I never will if I work for Dad."   
  
Virgil said to me despite everything, Dad's vision was worthwhile in his thinking and he had accepted his invitation to join up. It gave him the chance to pursue the Arts again in his spare time. He asked me as his brother to reconsider.  
  
"Johnny," he began. "I still remember the night you climbed into bed with me and we listened to the rain on the roof together. I was crying so badly. Do you remember that?"  
  
I replied yes I did. It was the night Dad explained to me very clearly our mother was never coming back. It was the night he himself had horrified me with thoughts that Mom would end up as nothing but bones.  
  
"It was also the night you held me when our Father wouldn't." he said. "I'll never forget that."  
  
"I should have been holding you." he added after a painful silence.  
  
"Johnny. I need you by my side if I'm to do this for Dad." he pleaded.  
  
I bit my lip and said I would think about it.  
  
"It's all for Mom." he added quietly. "Dad never said it in as many words but I know he's doing it for her."  
  
When I didn't reply he continued. "John. I know you loved momma as much as I did. If you won't do it for me at least do it for her."  
  
That was the clincher. Yes I had loved my mother as much as Virgil. No-one had loved my Mother more than I had, not even my Father. I loved her completely, utterly and totally. She was the centre of my world.  
  
I ended up agreeing to join. Dad thought my change of heart was due to his cool approach to my refusal. I've never told him I only joined International Rescue for Mom's sake and Virgil's.  
  
I resigned from NASA telling my Superiors I was leaving to work for my Father.   
  
Those in high rank compared me to my Father. Hard-working and talented, but prepared to turn his back on NASA and a potentially distinguished career to follow his dreams.  
  
Funny they compared me to Dad.Grandma said I was like Dad that night in front of the fire.   
  
The only difference between Dad and me is that I left NASA to follow his dream...not my own.  
  
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Well the pool game is over and Grandma's got me right where she wants me. I'm backed into a corner on the balcony with nowhere to go. I swallow my martini whole and pray for another.  
  
"John Glenn Tracy." she begins sounding decidedly miffed. "What have you got to say for yourself about all this then?"  
  
I bite both lips and try to keep a straight face. I think I'll go straight to excuse number two.  
  
"Grandma you know I enjoy a good party." I begin defensively. "I don't get many up in Thunderbird Five. You can't blame me for keeping a secret that's in my own best interests."   
  
"Don't you give me any of your hogwash." she warns in her no-nonsense southern tone. "And don't look at me with those blonde good looks of yours either thinking you'll charm your way out of my bad books."  
  
I put down my glass and wrap my arms around her. I look lovingly into her eyes.  
  
"How can I be in your bad books Grandma." I say squeezing her tightly and planting a kiss on the top of her head. "You don't see me enough for that."  
  
"I see you often enough to know I still have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself." she scolds. "Let go of me John Tracy, you're crushing the living daylights out of me."  
  
I release her and kiss her cheek.  
  
"I'm sorry Grandma. I forgot you're seventy-five now."   
  
She looks at me and frowns.  
  
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean young man?"  
  
I grin mischievously at her. I know she's always hated my sarcasm.  
  
"It means Josephine Tracy," I say brazenly, "that you're getting on in life and it's about time you stopped looking after me and I started looking after you."  
  
She rolls her eyes.   
  
"You look after me?" she exclaims. "That'd be a turn up for the books. You'll still be needing me to give you advice and bail you out of trouble when I'm up in that sky with your Grandfather young man. Especially if that's the best excuse you can come up with for not spilling the beans about this party."   
  
She's trying to stay light hearted but she knows she's started me thinking again after talking about Grandpa in the sky. Her gaze follows mine as it lifts skywards. She watches my eyes sweep the heavens.  
  
"You needn't look to your mother or Grandpa for help." she berates me quietly. "They're up there and you're down here unless you are still trying to work that side of things out after twenty one years."   
  
I don't say anything as I lean forward to allow my hands to rest on the railings of the balcony. My yes gaze longingly and lovingly at the evening star. Grandma stands besides me and rests her hand on mine as iftrying to give me some sort of support.  
  
It doesn't take much to get me thinking about Mother.  
  
I still miss her and on the balcony next to Grandma it's hard not to dwell on what life would might been like if she hadn't left us to cope alone all those years ago.  
  
I think Scott would have still joined the Air Force. He's Dad to the core and Mom knew that. Scott more than likely would have outshined Dad if she had stayed around to see him grow. He loved showing off to her.  
  
Gordon would have turned out better too. Mom wouldn't have tolerated his jokes and nonsense in the first place. But then again she did have mischievous streak herself. Maybe it would have been worse around here if Gordon would have found an ally in Mom. She might have actually helped him in his practical jokes.  
  
Alan definitely wouldn't be the pain in the ass that he is. She would have taken him by the ear and put him in his place well and truly from the beginning. God I wish that would have been how life turned out.  
  
Virgil? Well I can say right now Virgil would never have gone to College in Denver if Mom would have had anything to do with it. As for him turning his back on his talents and becoming a pilot; she wouldn't have tolerated that either. She'd have argued with Dad right down to the wire about leaving Virgil's talents untapped. Virgil could have been anything if Mom hadn't have died; an Artist, a concert pianist, an Actor.   
  
He is the most gifted of us all and he's wasted as a Pilot.   
  
Me?  
  
I've given it a lot of thought.  
  
In many ways I think the death of my mother was probably the makings of me. I had to learn to cope without her and in doing so I learned to love the stars. It's made me the man I am.  
  
The Starman.  
  
International Rescue's Astronaut.   
  
The only real Astronaut. Cop that in your eye Alan!  
  
I am that man purely because Lucille Tracy left me alone as a frightened little three year old to cope in this world without her. Grandma told me there was a reason for everything in this life, even Mom's death. I guess the reason was there wasn't room for two stars to shine in the Tracy family. One of us had to be content to watch the other from the heavens and I know my mother is the one who had to stand back and watch me make my way through life's journey long before she got to finish her own.   
  
"Momma,' I whisper, forgetting that Grandma is standing next to me. "I miss you."   
  
I feel Grandma's hand tighten on mine and I realise she has heard me.  
  
I redden.   
  
Our eyes meet but she smiles in understanding. I have Mom's handkerchief tucked away where no-one can see it and even though I miss her, she knows I still have that.   
  
No further words are said.  
  
"Do want to know something Grandma." I say as my eyes look back towards the sky.  
  
"What's dear?" she asks.  
  
"Grandpa finally made it to heaven tonight." I reply.  
  
She looks at me inquisitively.  
  
"How's that John?" she enquires.  
  
I wrap my arm around her as we look up in the darkness together.  
  
"I noticed during the pool game that Grandpa's star had finally burned out. I didn't know whether to tell you. I guess that means Grandpa felt comfortable leaving us after all these years."  
  
She does not look at me but Josephine Tracy's own eyes look longingly at the sky. I see a glimmer of a tear as we hold each other. Her face has a look of love and longing I have never seen before. I guess she's thinking about her love for Grandpa, the man who gave her a ring on Thanksgiving saying she was the thing he was most thankful for.  
  
Sorry Grandpa. I never got to know you but I can honestly say I'm more thankful for Grandma than you ever were.   
  
"I guess your Grandpa must be trying to tell me something then young John." she whispers after a while.  
  
My own eyes well with tears. I know what she is going to say.   
  
"He's telling me it will soon be my time to come home and he's making room for me."  
  
I hold her tighter. I cannot imagine life without my Grandma and I don't want to even think about it.  
  
"You won't ever die Grandma. You're way too wicked to go to heaven." I grin and twist her nose teasingly. "They wouldn't let a woman like you in the gate."  
  
Oh dear! Shouldn't a man have said that?   
  
She's just stood up to her full height of 5 foot two inches and given me a hearty slap to my rear end.   
  
"Ow!" I exclaim letting her go immediately and frowning. "What's that for Grandma?"  
  
"I've told you enough times in your life to keep things to yourself young man. If you think I'm ever going to watch over you from the sky after making a comment like that one, you're mighty mistaken. " she begins  
  
Uh oh. Here's comes the reality check, right on cue. I grin at her in amusement as she berates me.  
  
"… And another thing John Glenn Tracy if you think I don't know what you and Jasmine Andrews got up to in that gym and why you were suspended from High school, you're mistaken about that too. I know exactly what went on between the two of you and all the sneaking around you and your Father did about those paternity tests and I'm one mighty disgruntled Grandmother about the whole thing. You hear me? "  
  
My grin fades.  
  
After all this time she's let the cat out of the bag. She's known about what happened all along. I don't know what to say to defend myself so I say the only other thing a Grandson can say at a time like this.  
  
"Grandma...I really really love you."  
  
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Author's Note. - Hope you enjoyed this rendition of John.  
  
NEXT CHAPTER - FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - PART FOUR - GOING DOWN FOR THE THIRD TIME - GORDON - THE AQUANAUT.  
  
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	13. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONT...

Author's Note - Well after laying very low on this story due to the controversy the last chapter created I have decided to brave the knockers, pull on my bullet proof vest and hard hat and write Gordon's Tale anyway. Like it if you dare, hate it if you wish …it's one long Tale for the Gordon lovers that I enjoyed writing no matter what. mcj   
  
CHAPTER 7 - FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - PART FOUR - THE AQUANAUT SPEAKS  
  
Well the pool game is over now and I think I've managed to rile Johnny up sufficiently for one night .. well maybe not quite ... I forgot about that little "surprise" I've arranged for later when he sits down for supper.   
  
Provided we ever get supper around here that is.   
  
I'm starving and John is holding up proceedings by keeping Grandma entertained out on the balcony pointing at the stars. Doesn't he realise I'm fading away to a shadow in here while he's talking shop?   
  
Now what's Grandma doing? Great ! Now she's hugging him! That'll go on for another half an hour like it usually does.  
  
I see Kyrano nod to himself as he passes by the balcony doors. I know what's going through his head and almost beg him to change his mind as I see him move through to the kitchen with the clear intent of turning things down.   
  
It's obvious he's decided supper is going to be delayed tonight.  
  
Enough of the mush already Johnny! We know you love Grandma but I'm starving to death man.   
  
Now what? No don't point at the evening star again and start talking about Mother and Grandpa. Not when there are those of us who need our sustenance in here. I don't know about the others but I've been out swimming in the bay most of the day and all that exercise has given me one heck of an appetite.  
  
Well I was sort of out there all day. I didn't get a lot of exercise done though. I managed to swim over to the other side of the island despite the pain but I had to just sit there afterwards. After few hours I knew I had to walk back. I simply couldn't swim any more ... not today.   
  
My back hurts so badly tonight.   
  
No I can't think about my back. This is a happy occasion and I have to be the life of the party. I throw Dad a big grin as he walks past me. He pats my shoulder and asks me if I'd like him to fetch me another drink on his way back. I force my smile to remain painted on my face and thank him for the offer.  
  
"A Scotch thanks Dad." I reply.  
  
My shoulder is killing me too.  
  
No ... I can't think about my shoulder even though it's hurting worse than my back right now.  
  
It suddenly occurs to me that Father is now talking to Kyrano and the two of them are looking about the room. Father is frowning and looking upstairs. Kyrano is shaking his head.  
  
Uh oh.   
  
He's just worked out that Alan and Tin-Tin are missing. It usually takes Dad longer than the rest of us to notice things like that but by the look of him he's sure noticed now.  
  
"Father." I shriek in panic as he turns to head upstairs. "Err… do you have a moment Sir?"  
  
Dad nods and walks back over to stand beside me. His dark blue eyes look directly into mine as they have done on more occasions than I care to remember.  
  
"Yes son?" he asks expectantly and I get the distinct impression by the tone of his voice that if Alan doesn't stop making out with Tin-Tin Kyrano and get his two cent ass down here in the next thirty seconds flat he's going to know about it.  
  
OK ... now I've stalled for time... what do I want to talk to Dad about? I throw him another smile.  
  
"Um … It's a great party Sir." I blurt. "I think Grandma is really enjoying herself."  
  
His eyes wander to the balcony where John is still hugging Grandma. His features change and he smiles fondly at the sight of them. I rarely see that side of my Father but I can see it right now as he watches.  
  
"Yes. Despite Grandma giving everyone a piece of her mind, I think she is secretly enjoying all the attention." he agrees as his eyes dart back towards the stairs.  
  
I'm starting to panic. For God's sake Alan where are you? He's on to you man."  
  
"She hasn't said a word to me yet Sir." I reply, praying that any moment my youngest brother is going to walk through the doorway with a really good excuse as to where he's been.  
  
Father shakes his head and pats my shoulder again and laughs.   
  
"Oh she will son ... don't you worry about that."  
  
I wish he hadn't done that. The pain rears up again and I grimace. Dad doesn't see it. He's focussed on finding Alan.  
  
He's about to go up those stairs. You'd better have the door locked little brother that's all I can say.  
  
I do the only other thing I can do to save Alan's butt. God I hope he hears me up there.  
  
"Fire" I yell on the top of my lungs. "In the kitchen! I think it's your Dinner Kyrano."  
  
Pandemonium now ensues throughout the lounge room.   
  
Dad tears through the lounge and grabs the fire extinguisher in the hall. Kyrano heads straight for the kitchen apologising profusely that he must have turned the food up not down. John runs in from the balcony and almost knocks over Scott and Virgil who are both rushing about trying to find the fire blankets.   
  
I try not to laugh at the scene in front of my eyes. They might all save lives in the most dire and dangerous circumstances, but they absolutely can't cope with a domestic emergency. I turn to look in the direction of the stairs to see if Alan has responded. I don't see Alan anywhere in sight and I sure as heck don't see the stairs. Instead I'm now face to face with someone else. Someone whose eyes are burrowing right through me.  
  
My Grandma.   
  
She's standing right in front of me with her arms folded giving me an icy stare.  
  
"Are you playing one of your practical jokes and trying to ruin my birthday party young man?" she frowns. "Because if you are I am NOT laughing."  
  
I grin nervously. Normally I would be playing a practical joke or two to liven up the proceedings but this time my intentions are totally honourable. I only did it this time trying to save my favourite brother's life.  
  
Speaking of which, despite my valiant effort, there is still no sign of Alan and by the sound of the disgruntled voices in the kitchen, everyone has now worked out there isn't a fire in there either.  
  
"Sorry Ma'am." I say sheepishly. "I guess I accidentally ..."  
  
"Don't you say another word. You never accidentally do anything Gordon Cooper Tracy. "she warns as she goes into the kitchen to see what damage Dad wielding the fire extinguisher has caused to the meal. " I'll deal with YOU later."  
  
Damn, I'm in trouble again and I didn't even get a laugh out of it.   
  
"Oh dear Jeff!" I hear her exclaim. I also hear my Father say far worse than that believe me. By the sounds of it supper isn't looking too good. Boy am I ever in for it now.  
  
"What the hell's going on down here?"  
  
My six foot tall baby brother has taken the stairs two at a time and now strides into the room. Oh, so nice of you to join us Alan! I look at him with a mixture of sheer relief and extreme annoyance.  
  
"Bit of a false alarm." I joke indicating the discarded pin from the fire extinguisher.   
  
"Only a bit? Geez man you yelled loud enough to wake the dead." he exclaims looking towards the kitchen.   
  
If only this kid realised how close he came to being "dead" himself just now. He would have been dead for sure if Dad had walked in on them. That's another one you owe me Alan my eyes warn him. His eyes remind me in return I owe him too.  
  
"What happened anyway?" he asks.   
  
"Nothin' that's what. " I reply and then start to laugh as I look more closely at him. "By the way who taught you how to dress yourself?"   
  
"Grandma did. Why what do you mean asking me that?" he frowns.  
  
"Well for one thing your shirt's buttoned up all wrong and as for the rest of your clothes…if you know what I mean…"  
  
I point discreetly below his waist.   
  
He looks down and reddens as he notices his zipper is undone. While he's dying a thousand deaths, the other half of the combination walks into the room. Oh my word, what a co-incidence. Miss Kyrano has miraculously turned up too.  
  
"Goodness Tin-Tin." I grin. "I was starting to worry about you. I thought you were sick or something since you hadn't come down for the party."  
  
"Err… no … I'm all right Gordon." she stammers looking nervously at my brother from under her long pretty eyelashes. He"ignores" her completely as he rebuttons his shirt. I notice his zipper was fixed up fast but there's no way I'm going to tell Tin-Tin her top button is undone.   
  
These two are so pathetically obvious. I decide to make them squirm for even thinking they are fooling anyone around here, least of all me.   
  
"Gosh it must be windy out on Alan's balcony tonight." I say wryly.  
  
"Why do you say that Gordon?" she asks me.  
  
"Well ... I saw the two of you out there earlier and now your hair is really messed up. Not only that one of your earrings is missing. I was sure you had both on when Alan came in earlier. The wind couldn't have done that though could it? Maybe you lost it somewhere else? "  
  
She reddens too and immediately exits the room, no doubt on her way back to Alan's bedroom to find it.   
  
Alan starts to make excuses and says there is no way his clothing disaster and Tin-Tin's dishevelled state are connected.   
  
Oh no Alan of course not. Why would I think something like that? Afterall you two are "just friends" aren't you?   
  
Just friends? Errr hem ...yeah right!  
  
It's the family joke around here and you probably have already heard from Grandma that no-one enjoys a joke more than I do.  
  
But as I look at my youngest brother and listen to his embarrassed explanation, the pain in my heart escalates to overwhelmingly overtake any pain I feel in my back and shoulders.  
  
This is pain no medication can ease.  
  
I might be the family jokester who keeps everyone on their guard.   
  
I might act like a goofball sometimes as I laugh and kid about.  
  
I might look like I don't have a care in the world.  
  
But don't be fooled.   
  
I'm not like that all the time and especially now as I dwell on the past.  
  
All I can see is the terror on her pretty face a few seconds before the impact.   
  
All I can hear is her one tragic scream.  
  
Everything I lost in those few seconds over two years ago flashes before my eyes.  
  
I lost "her"..  
  
You see, like my brother Alan I was "just friends" with a girl once too. Like Alan I pretended nothing was going on between us.  
  
But unlike Alan's relationship with Tin-Tin Kyrano ; the girl I loved is dead.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
ACCIDENTALLY BORN  
  
The hardest part about being born fourth in a family of five is that I have three older brothers who enjoy nothing more than treating me like a child and a younger one who acts like a child and constantly needs to be looked out for.  
  
Don't get me wrong I'm not complaining about Scott, Virgil and Johnny. They are three terrific big brothers but they have a zero acceptance level of my maturity. I can understand why they don't accept Alan's because he doesn't have any. Alan and I are the kids in the family according to them. We've been the kids since we were babies and they still call us the kids now even though I'm twenty-two and Alan's twenty-one.  
  
I joke and kid about. He whines and demands his own way. Nevertheless the two of us are still considered as Tracy men and willingly stand by our older brothers risking our lives in International Rescue.   
  
I've had a roller coaster of a life up to now; extreme highs to dreadful lows and my four brothers older and younger have been beside me every step of the way.  
  
Riding the roller coaster with me too has been my Grandma. Grandma has loved and cared for me ever since I was a baby and I honestly don't know what I'd do if I didn't have her in my life. She has kept me on the straight and narrow that's for sure with her no-nonsense talk and covert actions.  
  
I like it very much when she starts reminiscing about her courtship with Grandpa and her life on their farm in Kansas. I never got to see the farm but it sounded like life was pretty good there. Farming was a simple and hard life she said but it was rewarding. Grandpa sounded like a tough man and a very hard worker. He was also a thinker according to Grandma. She always refers to Grandpa's insistence that couples should only have one child because of the overpopulation of the world. When she does she invariably looks at Dad then and jokes "unlike some people in this room who forgot to stop at three."  
  
I gathered from her statement that Alan and I weren't actually on Dad's original life agenda back then. I've often asked Grandma if her comment meant Mom and Dad had only planned to have three children. Naturally Grandma refused to give me a straight answer.  
  
"Irrespective of what that Father of yours planned to do in his head, he still ended up with five little boys at the end of it." she replied. "And you, young man have had him on a roller coaster ever since your mother told him you were on the way."  
  
Grandma readily offers family information as long as she feels it won't upset anyone. She's never had any qualms about talking to me about my early life but she never does it in front of Dad. For example, the moment the subject of our mother comes up she always looks carefully about her before saying anything. If Dad's about she doesn't even open her mouth.  
  
She was like that the day she told me about my early arrival into the world. I was sitting at the bench in the kitchen while she was baking cookies and as any growing seventeen year will do, I was eating them as fast as she was making them.  
  
"Gordon!" she exclaimed as my hand reached for the tenth one. "I swear I don't know where you put it all! Now leave off or you won't eat your supper."  
  
"Yes I will ma'am." I said in an indignant voice. "I always eat my supper."   
  
She had to agree with me because she knew it was a fact. I never left anything and always ate what was left of everyone else's.  
  
"Well you're a far cry from that tiny little premature baby who wouldn't feed for your mother and worried her half to death." she pointed out. "I wish she could see you now."  
  
I looked at Grandma waiting for her to continue. She cast a glance over her shoulder towards the hall which led to the lounge room in our New York home.  
  
"The coast is clear Grandma. Dad's in his study reading contracts." I said knowing full well why she was looking nervously about.   
  
  
  
Feeling comfortable Grandma began her story about my arrival. She told me Mom was more than a little rattled when I was confirmed. Grandma said she had kept complaining to her over the telephone she had a stomach bug and didn't understand why the heck she couldn't shake it.  
  
"I told her it was because she never had a moment's peace." Grandma said authoritatively. "She was always so busy rushing about with your older brothers. She was raising the three of them all alone back then while your Daddy was goodness knows where building up his business. When she wasn't doing that she was helping him with the paperwork when he came home. No wonder she was unwell all the time."  
  
As Grandma then put it, the penny eventually dropped with Mom that her sick stomach and tiredness might in fact be something else despite her precautions to the contrary. Grandma said Mom made an appointment with the Doctor trying to tell her herself it couldn't possibly be what she feared it was. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with one hell of a stomach bug all right.   
  
Me.  
  
A tiny human being who had been growing unexpectedly inside her for almost thirteen weeks. Her foolproof implant had turned out to be a little less foolproof than she expected.   
  
"So Grandma." I said reaching for another cookie. "Are you saying I was an accident ?"  
  
"No. I'm not. Stop that!" she said slapping my hand away from the food, "You were just a mighty big surprise for a young lady who didn't expect she'd be having anymore Tracy babies."   
  
Grandma doesn't know that I overheard a better version of things last year when Scott and Virgil were reminiscing about their earlier life over a few too many scotches on the balcony. From Scott's version Mom wasn't too happy about the news at all and paced the carpet for hours in front of Dad who didn't know what the hell to say. I know I shouldn't have been listening to my brothers but at least I know the truth. The only thing I didn't appreciate was Virgil's snide remark. "Well you'd pace too if you knew what that kid was going to turn out like!"   
  
Thanks a lot Virgil.  
  
So I might have been a surprise Grandma but let's face it, I was an accident.  
  
My birth sounded like a wild affair and the first downwards ride of the roller coaster. Grandma said she's heard Dad rattled before but never more rattled than he was the day he rang her from New York to say I was about to be delivered by caesarean section in Boston. He had said Mom had fallen badly and was in hospital. I was in serious trouble in utero. The Doctors were telling him they had no choice but to operate. I can't imagine Dad ever getting rattled. Nothing fazes him. He's as cool as a cucumber under any sort of pressure. Not that day according to Grandma. She said he was frightened out of his wits for both Mom and me and kept asking her over and over again to reassure him the two of us would be all right.   
  
Grandma said she told him to calm down and get himself back home.  
  
"He completely forgot about your three brothers in the panic." she said. "Luckily your eldest brother had a decent head on his shoulders despite only being seven years of age."   
  
She then added after the operation I was rushed into intensive care on a respirator and Dad wouldn't let her come to Boston to see me until I was stablised.  
  
"Your Daddy was a might worried young man back then Gordon." she said matter-of-factly. "His family was everything to him and he had trouble coping with the fact you were a tiny defenceless little thing who might not pull though. He'd never had to deal with that before and what with supporting your mother who was in a right royal mess herself, the worry of it all took more out of him than he'll ever care to admit."  
  
She patted my hand. "Still sweetie you managed to pull through just fine and it was rather a great day when I finally came to see you when you were discharged from the hospital."  
  
She then told me of the shock she got when she saw me for the first time. Shock is not a word that does much for your ego I might say.  
  
"Why were you so shocked Grandma?" I asked her with an uncustomary frown on my face. "I hope it was because I so handsome you couldn't believe it."   
  
"No, more like you were so red-headed I couldn't believe it." she laughed. "You could have hit me on the head and got a better reaction the first time I set eyes on you. All your Father could do was laugh at me I was so stunned. He couldn't figure out where that red hair of yours came from and neither could I."   
  
"Gordon." she said to me affectionately. "Your Daddy was the happiest man in the world when you came home and into his life."  
  
"But you said I was a surprise." I said. "And I know surprise is usually your nice word for an accident Grandma."  
  
Grandma shook her head.  
  
"Perhaps. But you were a nice surprise nevertheless and deep down I know that Daddy of yours was mighty happy about it."  
  
"What was I mighty happy about?" came the voice that abruptly ended the conversation. It was Dad who had come out of his study and into the kitchen to fetch himself some coffee. He stopped at the bench and helped himself to a cookie.  
  
"Happy there's any of these left after your son's finished helping me make them that's what." Grandma said hastily.  
  
Subject closed. Grandma didn't talk about Mom or the past in front of Dad ever.   
  
However it wasn't the same for me. I've never been afraid to say what's on my mind or voice my opinion in front of my Father.  
  
"Actually we were talking about my early life Dad." I said firmly fixing my eyes on him. "Grandma was telling me about when I was born and..."  
  
Dad looked at Grandma and then interjected in a disapproving tone.  
  
"Was she just? Well I'd prefer it if you did something more constructive with your time other than engage in useless small talk son. For example there's the homework I know you haven't done." he said. "Now off you go..."  
  
"But Dad..." I began in a disappointed voice.  
  
My informative discussion with my Grandma was cut short as Dad gave me his "look". It meant I wasn't to argue and I had to do as I was told. Dad never had to say much to any of us behaviour-wise back then. He had his cane and it did all the talking, that and his warning eyes. Even now if Dad disapproves of something you know. His eyes harden and darken, his chin lifts and his face looks like thunder.   
  
He looked like that then as he waited for me to obey his instruction.   
  
I sighed and complied.   
  
Sadly like many of Grandma's stories I never got to hear the end of it.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
ACCIDENTALLY MOTHERLESS  
  
Unlike my older brothers I didn't experience any grief at all when my mother died. Grandma said I cried for her a lot in the first few weeks and Dad had a terrible time of it but it wasn't long before I grew accustomed to the fact that my Mother wasn't going to be there to feed and care for me anymore.   
  
Grandma said I was a cheeky agreeable baby right from the beginning and once I worked out that Dad was able to give me a bottle just the same as Mom could and could bath and change me I stopped making a fuss.   
  
I guess I was the luckiest of the five of us when it comes to dealing with what happened to Mom.  
  
Scott had her the longest and I guess misses her the most. He doesn't discuss matters close to his heart with me or with anyone if the truth is known so it's hard to tell how he really feels.   
  
Virgil had her for five years and like Scott he simply doesn't talk about it. He speaks through his art and his music. You can always tell if he's playing a piece and thinking of her. His whole way of playing changes. I'm no musician but even I can tell.  
  
Johnny only had her for three years but according to Grandma he had her the most of all.  
  
"Your brother John was very attached to your mother." Grandma confided in me and then added quietly. "Too attached for his own good I'm afraid." I guess that's why he still can't go to bed without looking up into the sky and saying a sad goodnight.   
  
Alan never knew her at all not that I remember her either. But Alan's had to come to terms with the fact that when he came into the world our Mother died. He hasn't dealt too well with that over the years.  
  
So as I say, I was the luckiest if that's the right word to use when you're talking about losing a parent.  
  
I don't remember, I don't grieve and I don't have any guilt.  
  
But I do wish I'd have gotten to know her.  
  
Grandma tells me I'm like my Mother in many ways. She says I got my sense of fun from her. Well let's face it, I sure as heck didn't get it from my Father! Dad's known to have a good laugh every now and then and I'm usually the one to give it to him but he doesn't laugh often. Grandma says when Mom was alive he laughed all the time. I simply can't imagine that.  
  
"It's true child. That little lady brought your Father out of himself." she told me. "She was always telling him he was too serious about life for his own good."   
  
Funny that. I've said that to Dad on more than one occasion too.  
  
Grandma says I'm also stubborn and determined like my mother. I don't see myself as stubborn but I guess you could say I have been known to be determined about things in my time. Like when I stood up to Dad after High School when I wanted to join World Aquanaut Security Patrol. I refused to back down no matter what Dad said and Grandma reiterated to him that was exactly what Mom was like when she felt strongly enough about something. Grandma then pointed out I have always been a determined person and reminded me of when I was five years old.   
  
The year I started in the first grade and discovered I didn't have a mother.  
  
"You were so determined to find out why." Grandma said. "And you weren't going to stop until you knew."  
  
Grandma didn't have to remind me. I still remember that dreadful shock even now. It is my first childhood memory.  
  
Personally I think it was a bit rough that I was allowed to get all the way to Grade school believing a normal family consisted of a Grandma who amongst other things looked after the children and a Father who worked incessantly around the clock.  
  
I also thought all families had big brothers like my brother Scott who took the time to play with me, made sure I went to the bathroom before bed and helped to dress me in the mornings. That perception was all about to change as I ventured out of the safety of our Boston home and into the first grade at Parkhurst Elementary School.  
  
Dad was away from home when I started my first day of school so it was Scott who had to dress me in my uniform and walk me to the gates of the big public school. It was Scott who asked me if I was okay to go into my classroom by myself. It was Scott who placed a reassuring arm around my heaving shoulders when I started crying and said I couldn't do it. It was Scott who introduced me to my first grade teacher.  
  
"My Father is away from home ma'am." he explained to Miss Forbes. "And my Grandma has an appointment this morning. Do you want me to stay with my brother?"  
  
Miss Forbes took one look at my tear stained face and how I clutched my bag anxiously and remarked to Scott it would be better if he stayed.   
  
Scott did.  
  
He was not quite thirteen at the time and was going to be late for school himself but he didn't leave me until I had stopped crying and was playing happily with the other children.  
  
On the third day of school Dad returned from Japan after being there on business for over two weeks. I had been asleep when he arrived home the night before and my face lit up with pure joy when I came down to breakfast and saw him sitting at the table reading his newspaper and sipping his coffee.   
  
"Daddy!" I exclaimed bouncing down the rest of the stairs and scurrying straight up into his lap.  
  
"Hi sport!" he smiled putting the paper down to give me his full attention. "Mind the coffee huh."  
  
I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his tighten around me. I hugged him tight and kissed his cheek.  
  
"I'm so glad you're back Daddy." I said looking up at his newly shaven face. "I missed you."  
  
"I'm glad to be back too Gordon." he replied. "I missed you and your brothers very much."  
  
"Gordon started school on Monday Jeff." Grandma said bringing in Dad's breakfast and a pot of fresh coffee.  
  
Dad's face fell a bit. He'd obviously forgotten that milestone in my life was about to occur. Nevertheless he tousled my hair and acted as if it didn't bother him.  
  
"So do you like school son?" he asked motioning me to sit in the chair next to him as Grandma passed me my toast and fruit juice.  
  
"Yes Daddy." I enthused. I hesitated for a moment and then continued. "Only …"  
  
"Only what?" he asked as he buttered his own toast and indicated mine. "You want me to do that for you?"  
  
"Yes thank you Daddy." I nodded.  
  
"Now what were you saying?" he said as he handed me back the plate.  
  
"Daddy…" I began.  
  
'DADDY! DADDY! DADDYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"  
  
Alan had discovered Dad was home.  
  
He tore down the stairs at one hundred miles an hour, jumped straight into Dad's lap, knocking the freshly brewed coffee all over Dad's newspaper, his breakfast and the table.  
  
"Alan!" Grandma and Dad shrieked in unison but at four years of age Alan didn't care. He threw his arms around Dad and looked at him with his big baby blue eyes.  
  
"I missed you so much Daddy." he exclaimed sincerely. "Did you miss me?"  
  
Dad went to scold him but couldn't find it in his heart to do it.  
  
"Yes I did Alan but I sure as heck didn't miss this son." he said in an unimpressed voice as he indicated the mess on the table.  
  
Alan's face fell instantly when he realised what he had done.  
  
"I'm real sorry Daddy." he said his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't mean to do it. I just wanted to hug you for a bit that's all."  
  
Dad smiled and laid a reassuring hand on Alan's shoulder.  
  
"No harm done I suppose Alan. Come on you'd better help me clean this mess up before Grandma busts a nut at you."  
  
He stood up and held out his hand for Alan to take. Together they went into the kitchen to find some paper towels to clean up the mess. That was Alan all right. He didn't care if he was in trouble or not. As long as he had Dad's full attention he was happy and as usual he had managed to get it .  
  
I sighed and ate my breakfast in silence. I never got to tell Dad what was really on my mind.  
  
You see when I started school I watched everything around me very closely. I particularly watched the other children in my class. They were always brought to school by women who were much younger than Grandma and every single one of them was called "mommy".  
  
These mommies were pretty full on I might tell you. They fussed and cried and hugged their kids over and over before they left them in the classroom in the mornings and they congregated like a human army at the school gate in the afternoons. Once they saw their kids they fussed and cried and hugged them all over again.  
  
I wanted to ask my Father that morning what a mommy was actually good for, not that I wanted one with the way these ladies carried on. However I didn't get the opportunity thanks to Alan.   
  
I decided I would ask him that afternoon. He promised Alan and me that he would play ball with us when I got home from school and I knew he'd be able to tell me about these strange ladies if I asked him. Back then, I worshipped my Father. He was the God who knew everything. Imagine my disappointment when I arrived home to find that Dad had been called unexpectedly to New York and wouldn't be coming home again for several days.  
  
"How long this time Grandma?" I asked unhappily looking in the direction of the empty garage where Dad kept his Ferrari.  
  
"I don't know how long he'll be gone this time sweetie." she said. She looked at my despondent face and soothed. "I'm sorry but Daddy wasn't any happier about him going away than you are."   
  
Well that was the end of asking Dad the question and it was Scott who had to pacify us by playing ball until suppertime.  
  
I continued to observe these mommies each day and the more I watched them, the more they bothered me. I began to suspect something wasn't quite right in our family structure.  
  
All was revealed two days later when I sat in the playground at lunchtime. The first graders had their own area to segregate them from the rest of the school and the routine was we all ate before play. We sat on the benches eating our lunch.  
  
"What did your mommy make you today?" my friend Tom asked me peering at my lunchbox.  
  
"Grandma made these for me." I said showing him the crackers and fruit I had.  
  
"How come your Grandma made them?" Tom asked as he busily unwrapped his sandwich. "Where's your mommy?"  
  
"I don't I have one." I said honestly.  
  
"Yes you do." he said matter-of-factly. "Everybody has a mommy."  
  
"Do they?" I asked in amazement.  
  
"Uh huh. You got a Daddy don't you?"  
  
I nodded. "Yes." I replied. "I have a Daddy but he's not home very much even on the weekends."  
  
"Well you have to have a mommy then. Daddies and mommies go together." Tom said.  
  
I sat in silence trying to absorb the information.  
  
"I have my Grandma." I offered hoping that a Grandma was the same thing.  
  
"I have two Grandmas" he said. "One is my Daddy's mom and the other one is my mommy's mom. She lives a long way from here."  
  
It suddenly twigged now why Dad called Grandma "mom." when he wanted her for something. I frowned. Where was my mommy then and why did I have only one Grandma when Tom had two?  
  
It bothered me so badly I couldn't eat my lunch at all and Tom ended up happily munching on the crackers and fruit instead of his soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  
  
I sat next to Virgil on the way home from school in complete silence. It was the end of the first week and Virgil and John were busily planning what they were going to do together on the weekend.   
  
"What are you going to get up to Gordie?" Virgil asked trying to bring me into the discussion.  
  
When I didn't reply he gave me a worried look.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked slipping his arm around me as I continued to look out the window of the school bus.  
  
"Nothin'." I said distantly.  
  
Virgil squeezed me a bit tighter. He loved playing the oldest brother now that Scott was in Junior High School.  
  
You sure?" he asked sounding terribly like Scott.  
  
I looked into his deep brown eyes and said glumly. "Yes."  
  
"Well if its nothin' why are you acting like that for?" John demanded from the seat behind us.  
  
"Like what?" I asked.  
  
"Like you're upset or somethin'." he observed.  
  
"I'm not upset." I replied.  
  
When we got home Alan greeted us at the front door. He hated the fact that I was now at school and he was stuck at home with Grandma all day. Normally within ten minutes of arriving home we were messing about together in the garden but not today. In response to his enthusiastic welcome all he got from me was a brief hello before I brushed straight past him on my way up to the bedroom we both shared on the second story.  
  
Once there I took off my shoes, climbed up on my bed and lay down.  
  
Naturally Grandma was in the room in an instant taking my temperature and fussing around.  
  
"You not well little one?" she asked shoving a thermometer in my mouth. It's hard to reply with one of those things under your tongue so I remained silent. She read the thermometer and shrugged.  
  
"Hmmmm. You seem well enough." she observed placing her hand on my forehead. She looked at me worriedly.  
  
"Are you feeling all right sweetie?" she enquired.  
  
"Yes Grandma." I replied but with a sadness in my voice she detected immediately.  
  
"Someone giving you hassle child?" she frowned.   
  
"No Grandma"  
  
She watched me a while longer before assuming as she always did that I must be simply tired after having to go to school for a whole week straight.  
  
"Well. I'll keep you some chocolate cake for after supper." she said. "That is of course if your brothers have left you any." she added looking at Alan who was standing next to her with cake crumbs all around his mouth. She laughed before bending down to wipe his face with a tissue she took from the dresser. Alan squirmed and screwed up his face.  
  
"Aww Grandma." he complained. "Don't."  
  
Grandma left the room as Alan climbed up on my bed to be next to me. She somehow knew Alan would cheer me up. The two of us were very close and school was the first time the two of us had ever been separated. Grandma knew I missed him as much as he missed me.   
  
Dad used to say sometimes it was hard for him to believe we were brothers born less than thirteen months apart. He imagined I guess we would be very similar because of our closeness in age. Admittedly Alan was the same size as me but he certainly looked and acted completely the opposite. I was red haired, brown eyed, level headed and calculating. He was blonde, blue eyed, fiery and impulsive. Yet the two of us got on famously.   
  
Today however I didn't want to have anything to do with my little brother and he was becoming worried.  
  
"Gordie… are you sick?" he asked me in a troubled voice as he eyed the thermometer on the dresser.  
  
"No." I said.  
  
His face brightened. "Wanna play some ball with me then?"  
  
"No." I replied turning on my side to face the wall.  
  
"Why?" he pouted and leaned over me. "You said you weren't sick and I've waited to play all day."  
  
I lay silently for a while and then turned back to him fixing my eyes on his.  
  
"Alan do you know where our mommy is?"  
  
Alan looked at me like I had two heads.  
  
"What's a mommy Gordie?" he asked.  
  
"It's a lady who goes with a Daddy." I explained sharing the wealth of my newly acquired wisdom.  
  
He tilted his head to one side as he always does when he's thinking about something and doesn't quite understand it.  
  
"Our Daddy doesn't have a lady." he finally replied looking confused. "Except Grandma."  
  
"That's what I said to Tommy but he said Daddy does. He said Daddies and mommies go together." I said.  
  
"Maybe he keeps her at work." Alan offered. "That's where he is most times."  
  
I got off the bed and strode determinedly to the door. "I'm going to ask Johnny where our mommy is. He'll know."  
  
As usual Alan tried to tag along but even at age five I knew better than to take him with me to see John. John wasn't very fond of Alan and I knew it. I didn't know why but I could just tell by the way spoke and acted whenever Alan was around. Luckily Grandma, armed with the scissors called him to come to her.  
  
"Don't say anything to Grandma." I warned him as he grumbled and complained at the prospect of having his blonde curls trimmed in the back garden.  
  
"OK." he agreed. "But you'll tell me what Johnny says right?"   
  
I nodded. The two of us had no secrets from each other back then and we still don't now. "Don't worry. I'll tell you."  
  
I ventured down the Hall to Grandma's sewing room where John lay sprawled out on the floor with Dad's old astronomy charts spread out all around him.  
  
"They're Daddy's" I said to him from the door much to his annoyance.  
  
"Dad said I could look at them." he snapped without looking up. I wondered if at eight years old John knew what the heck he was looking at as he pored over the charts with wonder all over his face.  
  
"You feeling OK now?" he enquired, finally lifting his face to mine.  
  
"Yes." I replied.  
  
"Well what do you want then?" he asked knowing full well I rarely bothered him for anything and wouldn't be standing there for nothing..  
  
"Johnny..." I began. "Do you know where mommy is?"  
  
To this day I regret uttering those words to my middle brother. I have never seen John get quite so upset about anything as he did that day. His blue eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip trembled and before I knew it he had broken into loud and uncontrollable sobs. I gazed at him with fright. I hadn't meant to upset my brother but he sure was upset all right. He fled down the hall to the security of his bedroom and slammed the door shut.  
  
I began to worry now. Something was clearly wrong.  
  
I went back downstairs and paused at the door. There was Grandma trying to cut Alan's hair while he writhed and moaned. I knew it would be easier to ask Grandma about this but after John's reaction I was afraid I might upset her too. And we all knew better than to upset Grandma. If any of us ever upset her Dad got mighty mad.  
  
I looked in the direction of Dad's study. Scott was allowed in there to do his homework now that he was in Junior High school. I bit my lip and debated whether to ask him. As I grappled with the decision Virgil walked past me on his way to the kitchen. I decided to ask him instead.  
  
Virgil was a level headed easy going ten year old. He'd give me a straight answer if anyone would. I approached him as he poured himself a glass of milk from the refrigerator.  
  
"Hey are you feeling OK now Gordie?" he asked looking down at me.  
  
I nodded and he smiled and said "That's good."  
  
"Virgie…" I began. "Where's our mommy?"  
  
Virgil paused for a few moments as he closed the refrigerator.  
  
"Gordie we don't have a mommy anymore." he said sadly.  
  
I proceeded to ask him why and it became obvious immediately that he was starting to get upset too.   
  
"Cos we don't." he replied tersely. "If you wanna know why ask Scott about it not me."   
  
Well it was down to Scott and I was terribly in awe of my eldest brother and I sure didn't want to upset him. However, this was beginning to gnaw at me. I only wanted to know the truth about things. Thanks to Virgil I now knew we used to have a mother but I still had no answer as to where she was at the moment and why she had gone away without taking us.  
  
I stood at the entrance to Dad's study for ages watching Scott chewing on his pencil trying to figure out his Math homework. Suddenly he let fly using expletives I'd never heard him use before. He must have learned those sorts of words in Junior High because we sure weren't allowed to use them in our house. I knew Grandma would wash his mouth out with soap if she heard him and he must have been worried that she did because he looked towards the door.   
  
He saw me instead.  
  
His face took on a dismayed look when he realised I had heard him.  
  
"Don't you say anything to Grandma." he warned fixing his authoritative eyes on mine. They were so like Dad's. "I mean it." he added.  
  
I shook my head. I would never dare to tell on any of my brothers no matter what they did.   
  
I was too busy marvelling at his impending adolescence to worry anyway. My big brother had grown rapidly over the vacation and was starting to change into a man. All of my brothers were watching the changes in him carefully. His half broken voice particularly fascinated us.  
  
"What's wrong with you anyway squirt?" he asked as I continued to stare at him.   
  
I swallowed and said I wanted to ask him something. He went to dismiss me and return to his Math homework until I said it didn't matter and I would ask Dad. He instantly gave me his undivided attention. No doubt he was worried I would mention the swearing at the same time. He asked me what I needed to know. When I told him his face clouded.  
  
After a few moments he called me to come over to him and he put his arms around me. He told me as gently as he could that we used to have a mother but she died when I was very small.  
  
Naturally when your favourite word is "why" the inevitable question followed. His answer of "she just did." was bad enough but when he added "now don't ask about her anymore all right?" I became even more frustrated. Why couldn't I ask about her? I asked him if Dad knew why our mother died. I shouldn't have said that let me tell you.  
  
Scott's face became anxious. He was terribly protective of Dad and even more protective of us. He told me in no certain terms that whatever I did I wasn't to mention "mommy" to Dad.  
  
"Dad doesn't like talking about her and he'll just get mad at you. Promise me Gordie…promise me you won't ask him."  
  
I nodded recognising he meant what he said. As I went to leave the room he gave me the look of command he possessed even back then. I wished I'd been old enough to recognise it.  
  
After supper Grandma put Alan and me to bed early saying we were both tired. Alan as usual resisted but Grandma said firmly if I was tired he was tired and that was that.  
  
"What did you have to go and be tired for?" he complained as the two of us lay next to each other in my bed. "I wanted to watch television."  
  
"I wasn't tired." I said defensively. "Grandma just thinks I am."  
  
The two of us lay together in Alan's bed talking. Naturally the subject of our newly discovered loss came up.  
  
"Scott told me we had a mommy once." I told Alan. "but he said that she died."  
  
Alan's perception of death was the demise that week of our elderly neighbour who had passed away after a lengthy illness. Before I started school the two of us used to accompany Grandma whenever she took him a meal or went to check on him. Alan had attended his funeral with Grandma the day before and hence his anxiousness earlier in the afternoon when he thought I was sick too.  
  
"Was our mommy sick like Mr. Rogers?" he asked.  
  
"I dunno but Scott said we aren't allowed to talk about her to Daddy else he'll get mad."  
  
Neither of us wanted to risk making our Father mad. He very rarely got angry at anything but when he did we didn't want to be the ones he was angry at that's for sure.  
  
Our conversation went no further that night. Grandma was right. The two of us were tired and we both fell asleep next to each other not long after.   
  
But the scene had been set. The babies of the house now knew the truth. We knew our family wasn't like everyone else's and our Father didn't want to talk about why.  
  
Not telling me something when I want to know about it was a recipe for disaster.  
  
Two days later Dad came home.  
  
We were having supper in the dining room when his Ferrari roared into the drive. After a few minutes we heard the car door slam. There were no smiles of greeting this time as Dad came through the door in his black business suit, tired, grumpy and disillusioned. He threw his briefcase on the couch and began to loosen his tie as he strode into the dining room.  
  
"I think you need to get some decent sleep Jeff." Grandma said to him as he sat down at the head of the table and in one breath proceeded to admonish Scott for not wearing an ironed shirt, Virgil for not combing his hair, John for having his elbows on the table, me for holding my knife and fork wrong and Alan for using his fingers.  
  
"You're supposed to be Tracy sons." he snapped glaring around the table. "It's bad enough I have to be away from home all the time without the five of you doing whatever you damn well please the moment I'm gone."  
  
After Grandma's comment about him needing sleep attracted no response she looked at him and retorted.  
  
"Well by the way you're acting like a bear with a sore head I think it would be a fair bet for me to say things didn't go too well for you in New York."   
  
He looked over at her.  
  
"No mother." he seethed. "No things did not go well if you must know."  
  
Nothing else was said after that and we all sat around the table in silence. That is of course until yours truly with no sense of danger and no understanding of what constitutes bad timing decided that this was the opportune time to ask my Father if it was true what Scott had told me about my mother dying.  
  
I thought Scott was going to expire when the words left my mouth. His face went deathly white and his eyes flew to mine in complete disbelief. I saw Dad glare at him before he turned his attention to me.  
  
"Yes it's true that your Mother died." he snapped. "Now forget about it please and eat your supper."  
  
He looked at Scott again, sighed miserably and hung his head.  
  
"Why did Mommy die Daddy?" I asked innocently not taking my eyes off him. "Was she sick?"  
  
Dad's eyes remained fixed on the table. "I SAID eat your supper Gordon." he thundered dangerously.  
  
His tone said it all. End of discussion.  
  
I did notice however it wasn't the end of the matter as far as Dad was concerned. He called Scott back after supper and spoke with him in his study for over half an hour afterwards. When Scott came out his lips were trembling and he strode straight to his room and closed the door. He took one look at me on the way and shook his head. He'd asked me not to say anything and now Dad, tired and disenchanted from a difficult time in New York had bawled him out.   
  
Virgil called me into the room he and John shared not long after. He and Scott were very close and it didn't sit to well with him that Scott had been blamed for what had happened over dinner.   
  
"Scott got into a lot of trouble with Dad just now because he told you about Mom dying." he said as he towered over me. "Gordie you promised Scott you wouldn't say anything about mommy and the very first thing you did when Dad came home was open your big mouth."  
  
"I forgot I promised." I said feeling bad. "I only wanted to know why mommy died."  
  
  
  
"We're not supposed to talk about Mommy dying. You understand?"   
  
I shook my head. No I didn't understand but I promised I wouldn't mention her anymore.  
  
"You better not." he warned. "Scott's real upset that Dad's mad at him and it's all your fault."  
  
My eyes filled. The thought of my big brother in trouble because of me made me feel terrible. I had seen Scott come out of the study. I knew his lips wouldn't be trembling for nothing.   
  
"I'm sorry Virgil." I said. "I didn't mean for Daddy to go mad at Scott."  
  
"Yeah well he did so you better not talk about mommy again you got that?"  
  
My head moved up and down woodenly. I was in big trouble if the tone of his voice was anything to go by.  
  
"Yes Virgil." I replied.  
  
"Now go and say goodnight to Grandma. I'm gonna try to cheer Scott up."   
  
As I walked down the hall I hung my head. I simply didn't understand. What was the big deal about my mother?   
  
Despite Virgil's warning I couldn't help myself. Grandma's right. I do have a determined streak and I was determined to find out more about my mother.  
  
There was now only one person left to ask, the person I probably should have asked in the first place and saved everyone a lot of grief.  
  
Grandma.  
  
It took me a few weeks to find the courage to raise the issue and the question was sparked by the fact that even though I wasn't allowed to ask about my mother I looked about the house trying to locate some pictures of her. There were none to be had. There were pictures of Dad in the Air Force and walking on the moon. There were pictures of Grandma and Grandpa and the old farmhouse in Kansas. There were baby photographs of me and my brothers. But there were no pictures of my mother.  
  
I wanted Grandma to tell me why but had learnt very early in my life that when I wanted to deal with Grandma I had to pick the right moment to do so. If I did, I got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and in most cases "so help me God."   
  
Grandma tells it like it is with no holes barred. Like it or lump it, that's the way she is.   
  
The right moment came one Saturday afternoon as she scurried into our room to put the laundry away. Dad had just left for New York again and she had sent Alan and me upstairs to take a nap. You guessed it. She said we were "tired" again because the two of us had argued loudly over a toy car the moment Dad had said goodbye and backed out of the drive. She was now busily catching up on the household chores and enjoying the peace and quiet.  
  
Alan had gone to sleep and I was laying there silently reading a book when she appeared. She smiled at me as she put our clothing in the dresser and placed the "offending" car she had confiscated on top of it.  
  
"Don't you even think about it." she warned as I eyed the car and then my sleeping brother.  
  
Grandma could read me like a book. I looked at her and gave her a grin knowing I had been suitably admonished.   
  
After a few moments I asked her carefully. "Grandma. Do you remember my mommy?"  
  
She knew Dad wasn't home so her face didn't grow anxious like it had the night I asked about her at the dinner table. She replied yes she did remember my mother. That was all she said. It was obvious, like Scott, she was only going to tell me what I needed to know.   
  
So then I asked Grandma straight out why my mother had died. Grandma looked dismayed at my forthrightness but told me God had called her to heaven when I was thirteen months old.   
  
I knew who God was but for the life of me I didn't understand why my mother would want to go to heaven just because he called her there. Grandma's face became momentarily sad when she explained God only called the special mothers to heaven and my mother had been very special not just to us but to Dad too. She then added she had been more than very special to my Father. She had been everything.  
  
I pondered on that statement for a while. Even at five years old I figured if Mom was that special to Dad he would at least want to talk about her. It also stood to reason there would be lots of pictures of her about the house.   
  
I asked Grandma if my mother had loved me like she did. She nodded and said my mother had loved me even more than she did. I knew how much Grandma loved me and how much I loved Grandma so it was pretty awe-inspiring to think that my mother could have felt even stronger than that. But if she had, why did she go to heaven when she was called? Why didn't she stay here with us?   
  
Grandma said that was the sad part. Once God called you, you didn't have the right of reply and even though Dad needed her here with us, she had no choice but to go and be with him. Grandma said that's why she left the farm and came to live in Boston.  
  
"Daddy was very upset when Mommy died." she said. "And he needed Grandma's help to care for you and your brothers. He still needs her while he works hard to provide for you all."  
  
That was a reasonable explanation of what had happened I guess but it raised another rather frightening possibility. If God could take my mother away, couldn't he just as easily take Grandma away too?  
  
She shook her head and told me in no uncertain terms that God wasn't game enough to do that. Her voice had a really menacing tone to it when she said it too. I remember thinking if I was God I sure as heck wouldn't be messing with Grandma.  
  
Well at least I knew the full story now. I knew I once had a mother but she had been called to heaven. I knew Grandma had come to help Dad care for us when she died. I knew Dad had been very upset when she died because she had been everything to him. It all started to make sense. I also knew without being told that Dad always kept his feelings to himself. As a result of all this I guessed that's why we weren't allowed to talk about her to him.  
  
But one thing still plagued me. I wanted to know what she looked like. It was the last piece of the puzzle.  
  
When I asked Grandma if Mom had been pretty like her, she led me down the hall towards Dad's bedroom. I hesitated at the door. We had been told emphatically by Dad that his room was "off limits" to all of us other than when the discipline was expended. Discipline aside, it was the one place he went for a bit of peace and quiet. It was also the one place he was able to be alone and feel free to grieve in private.  
  
Grandma took my hand and led me inside making me promise not to tell anyone about what she was about to show me.  
  
"That includes your little brother." she said. "It's obvious you can't keep a secret too good young man, so I'm putting you on your honour this time."  
  
I promised her faithfully I wouldn't say anything. She looked at me and warned.  
  
"Promising Scott and letting him down is one thing. Promising Grandma is another. Daddy will be very unhappy with Grandma if he knows I'm showing you this."  
  
She slowly handed me a framed picture she had taken from the bottom of Dad's private drawer. The picture was of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Grandma told me the young woman in the picture was my mother. I gazed at it for ages before commenting to Grandma that she looked exactly like Virgil. Grandma agreed. I took in every detail of her features, noting her cheeky smile and mischievous eyes; the very things I had inherited. .  
  
"She's so beautiful Grandma." I whispered.  
  
"Yes she was. "Grandma said sadly. "She was the most precious sweet little girl in the world and she deserves better than to be hidden away like this and forced to be forgotten by the people she loved the most."   
  
I continued to stare at the picture, unable to take my eyes off it. There was something about her ... something that stirred a strange feeling within me ... something that told me ... I was destined to be with her.  
  
The first warning.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
ACCIDENTALLY FAMOUS IN THE WATER  
  
I think it's fair to say I proved myself to be pretty competent in the water over the years. Let's face it you don't end up being much of an Aquanaut if you can't swim.  
  
Dad has never been able to understand how any son of his could have developed such a passion for the water when flight and outer space figure so high in his priorities. I guess it's the same reason I was born into this famaily with red hair.  
  
I'm just different.   
  
  
  
Grandma says I adored being in the water even as a baby and unlike my brothers who used to cry miserably when they were put into the bath, I cried incessantly when I was taken out of it.  
  
Grandma taught me to swim when I was young and I loved going to the local pool with my brothers. I'm a very competitive person and as any annoying seven year old brother tends to do, I boasted I could beat all of my brothers in a swimming race if they cared to try me on.  
  
"Come on then." ten year old Johnny dared me one afternoon. "Prove it!"   
  
John was a very competent swimmer too and on top of that liked nothing better than to put me in my place. I readily snapped at the chance and thoroughly enjoyed telling Grandma over supper that I had convincingly "kicked his butt."  
  
"That's enough of your uncouth talk young man." Grandma admonished me. "Your Father wouldn't tolerate you saying that if he was home and you know it."  
  
"Is that true Johnny?" fifteen year old Scott asked in surprise. "You let a squirt like him beat you?"   
  
Before an agitated John could reply I fixed my eyes on my eldest brother and laid down the challenge.  
  
"I could beat you too Scott 'cept you're too chicken to race me."  
  
Scott rolled his eyes. He was in the High School Swimming team and had broken every age record in swimming right through elementary school and Junior High.  
  
"You won't beat him Scott." John said. "He's real fast."  
  
Hey tell this little red head something he didn't know! My arrogance, coupled with John's warning was enough for Scott.   
  
"I don't race amateurs." he scoffed. "Especially midgets like you."  
  
The first year I was eligible to swim in the elementary school carnival was in the fifth grade. I had a bad virus that day and Grandma wisely kept me home from school. Subsequently I was not identified for the school team. On the day of the inter-school carnival one of boys selected succumbed to the same virus I'd had. The PT Teacher ran around in a flap. Who the heck in the fifth grade was able to swim the 200 metres butterfly?  
  
"Excuse me Mr. Carmichael." I said. "I can do it."  
  
"You sure?" he frowned.  
  
"Yes Sir." I said. "I swim it all the time."  
  
"OK then" he frowned. "You're in."  
  
Well the rest is history I guess. I won the 200 metres by nearly a full pool length and broke the age record for the distance in the process. Whose record did I break? None other than that set by a young Scott Carpenter Tracy several years before. Scott eyed me with distaste as I showed Dad my gold medal and recounted the race.  
  
"You think you're pretty good don't you?" he asked contemptuously.   
  
"Yes I do." I replied, my head full of my own importance. "I'm faster than you were."  
  
Scott cast a disapproving eye in my direction.  
  
"I'd watch it if I were you squirt." he warned. "You're biting off more than you can chew with me."  
  
"Now boys it's only a race." Dad said in a bored tone before he smiled and tried to appear interested in my achievement. He said absently. "I'm glad you won the gold medal son. That's very good."  
  
Two days later the telephone rang and for once Dad was home to answer it. We were eating supper at the time and all of us, especially me, pricked up our ears at the mention of my name.  
  
"Yes I'm Jeff Tracy." Dad said.  
  
"Yes young Gordon is my son." Dad said.  
  
"No." Dad said.  
  
"Yes." Dad said.  
  
"I don't think so." Dad said.  
  
"I'll think about it." Dad said.   
  
He put down the receiver and returned to the table.  
  
Grandma looked at him expectantly.  
  
"What was all that about then Jeff?" she asked.  
  
Dad looked at her and then at me.  
  
"That was Gordon's PT Teacher about that note you gave me last week. He really thinks Gordon shows some potential as a swimmer. He wants him to train in the school squad."  
  
I grinned from ear to ear and immediately looked over at Scott. Scott was conveniently ignoring me.  
  
"Can I Dad?" I asked excitedly. "Please?"  
  
Dad looked doubtful but he had already told me earlier that month I couldn't learn to dive until I was sixteen years old. Dad was very level headed and always mindful of saying yes or no too often.   
  
"All right." he agreed. "You can train."  
  
I absolutely adored the training. I was the youngest and smallest in the elementary school squad and I was always trying to prove my worth. One afternoon one of the seventh graders made a comment about the fact that I was only in the squad because my Father was Jeff Tracy the billionaire.  
  
"No I'm not." I said. "It's because I can swim fast."  
  
In response to his "yeah right" look I decided I would pace myself against this kid and try to show him I was in the squad because of my speed, not my Father's money.  
  
When I finished the 800 metre training block I looked about with satisfaction to see I had lapped him in the process. "Well well.." I thought as I hauled myself out of the pool." Now who shouldn't be in the squad?"  
  
"Gordon." my PT Teacher said calling me over to him.  
  
"Yes Sir?" I asked.  
  
"I want you to know you've just broken the Under 16 National Record for 800 metres son."  
  
"Is that good Sir?" I asked still worried about my worth.  
  
"Yes son. That's very good.I think it's about time we arranged to get you some proper coaching."  
  
Well the telephone rang again and luckily Dad was home to take the call a second time.  
  
"Yes I'm Jeff Tracy." Dad said.  
  
"Yes young Gordon is my son." Dad said.  
  
"No." Dad said.  
  
"Yes." Dad said.  
  
"I don't think so." Dad said.  
  
"I'll think about it." Dad said.   
  
As it turned out the call was from the head coach of the State Development Squad, a squad established to identify young talent and nurture it to Olympic Level. My PT Teacher had called him and told him of my achievements.  
  
He wanted Dad to allow me to train with the State Junior Squad. I had just turned eleven years of age.  
  
Dad sat down with Grandma and had a very big discussion about this one. The squad trained on the other side of Boston and it meant I had to be driven there in the mornings and again in the afternoons. To most families this would not present a problem but to Dad it was a hassle he didn't need. Time was of the essence to him and he quite frankly didn't have time to be driving me across Boston twice a day to humour some over the top State swimming coach.  
  
"Well." Grandma said. "I can do it in the afternoons Jeff if you'll do it in the mornings when you're home."  
  
"But Mother..." he began.   
  
"No buts" she said. "If the boy has talent we should foster it and let's face it the child must have something if he can break an under 16 record at eleven years of age."   
  
"I suppose so." Dad grumbled. "But mother I might tell you this is mighty inconvenient to a man in business you know."  
  
Hence my training at State Level commenced and Dad suffered in silence as we set out every morning at 4.30am to drive to the pool on the other side of town. Grandma did it when Dad was away on business and then turned around and did it all again in the afternoons. I thrived under the coaching I received and my times improved drastically. I had now progressed to swimming at Interstate meets and winning.  
  
At twelve years of age my name quite often appeared in the newspaper after I had broken yet another record. Dad shook his head. All this training was one thing, my life being turned upside down was another.  
  
"This is not normal." he thundered one morning as we drove home from training. "You're twelve years old Gordon … far too young to be receiving the amount of publicity you are and far too young to be spending four hours a day swimming up and down a blasted swimming pool."  
  
I didn't look at him but he was looking at me.  
  
"And …" he added. "spending six hours a day in the car travelling backwards and forwards from training."  
  
"I don't mind Dad." I offered as I reached forward to find the English book I was required to have read that day.  
  
"Well I do." he said. "Look at you. You eat your breakfast in the car, you do your homework in the car.Lord knows you'll be sleeping and showering in the car soon if that Coach has his way."  
  
I sat there meekly allowing him to let off steam.  
  
No … I've made up my mind…" he said firmly. "I'm only prepared to allow you to train once a day son … that's all. Plus you'll only compete in the larger swim meets. If that Coach of yours doesn't like it well that's too bad. That's the way it's going to be."  
  
"But Dad …" I complained.  
  
"Don't give me any of your "but Dad" talk." he replied looking straight ahead. "It's for your own good."  
  
I was really disappointed and I can tell you there were a lot of people and not just my coach who weren't too happy about Dad's decision either. Grandma had more than enough to say about it, accusing him of being more concerned with nurturing his business than nurturing his son's obvious talent. Dad however stood firm. He usually does when he makes a decision and he told Grandma straight his decision was not to make life easier for him but to give my life some sort of balance.   
  
"Well while you're so busy balancing your son's life why don't you take some time out to have a darned good look at your own." she retorted.   
  
Dad was still working up to twenty hours a day, seven days a week in his business. He took no vacations, no days off and had very little sleep. Grandma was worried sick he was going to work himself to death not to mention that fact that his "little boys" as she called us were growing up right in front of his eyes and he was far too busy to notice.   
  
Grandma said he only worked like he did to forget our Mother and all I can say about that is after eleven years of trying you'd think he might have figured out it wasn't working too well. Every now and then he would let his guard down and allow himself to remember, particularly when one of us did something that reminded him of her. However the pain was too much. You could tell because his eyes would cloud over and fill. Then he would shake his head awkwardly and stride from the room muttering there were financial records to be checked or plans to patent.  
  
Anyway my life now had the balance Dad said it needed but I was missing half the training and most of the swim meets. I felt I had to try harder than ever whenever I was in the water.Strangely enough with this attitude I continued to improve and whenever Dad did allow me to compete I won easily. At fourteen my coach decided to enter me in an Adult race. I won that too.  
  
"Hey you're famous Gordie!" Alan exclaimed in his half broken voice as he read about me in the sports section of Dad's newspaper the following morning. "It says here you are the most exciting young talent in America."  
  
I swallowed my fruit juice and shrugged.  
  
"It was just a race to me." I said. "It didn't count for anything."  
  
Alan frowned at my lack of enthusiasm when he himself was so excited. He returned to the paper and read further before adding.   
  
"Yeah but it says here you might be fast enough to go to the Olympics one day."   
  
I grinned at that observation particularly as it had been made by a high-ranking swimming selector. That pleased me.  
  
"Well right now why don't the two of you just stop dreaming and eat your breakfast." Dad interrupted as he took the paper off Alan. "Your brother isn't going to the Olympics so forget it. That sort of representation is a long way off and even if it wasn't, like you Alan, Gordon has an education to worry about."  
  
"He might just get there you know Jeff." Grandma said from the other end of the table. "He's not swimming far outside the Olympic qualifying time."  
  
"His Mother would not have wanted him to be exposed to that sort of thing." Dad snapped, mentioning my mother's name for the very first time in my presence. "Like me, she wanted our sons to be normal and not subjected to the sort of publicity I was. It's invasive and you know as well as I do how many photographs were taken of Lucy and me before I walked on the moon. She hated it and I hated it. Both of us were adamant our sons were going to be kept out of the limelight and so far that's what I've succeeded in doing."  
  
"Well it's not your achievements that have put your son in the limelight I'm afraid. It's his own." Grandma said indicating the colour photograph of me on the back page of the paper with the caption. "Watch me Dad, I can fly too."  
  
"Damned stupid nonsense." Dad muttered as he prepared to bury himself in the financial section. "The kid doesn't even like flying."  
  
Grandma removed her glasses and said bluntly. "Before you immerse yourself in matters dear to your heart and by that I mean the stock market not your son's achievements, I would simply like to say one thing to you Jefferson Grant Tracy."  
  
Dad glared at her from where he sat.  
  
"And what's that mother?"  
  
"Your second youngest boy has a real talent and he's been set a course to run with it. You might not want him to but rest assured he will. And he will because that young lady of yours is up there looking over him. If you think for one minute Lucille would not have wanted her son to represent his country you didn't know her very well. You mark my words, she'll see to it that he gets there one way or another."  
  
Strangely enough she did.  
  
The day I was selected for the Olympic team would have been Mom's forty eighth birthday. Grandma told Dad it was an omen as I broke the Olympic record for the 200 metres butterfly by 0.48 of a second.   
  
Then at sixteen years of age I won my first and only Olympic Gold Medal.  
  
I stood on the podium to receive my medal on Saturday March 12 the following year as my Father, Grandmother and brothers watched proudly from the stands.   
  
March 12 was Alan's fifteenth birthday. It was also the fifteenth anniversary of our mother's death.  
  
I broke the Olympic record by 0.15 seconds.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
ACCIDENTAL HAPPENINGS  
  
Now, I've told you I inherited a few things from my Mother, one in particular that has caused a lot of unrest in this house ... my sense of humour and in particular my love of a good practical joke.  
  
Grandma said Mother never went so far as to play jokes on anyone, a comment to which Virgil responded by winking at Scott and pointing out she had definitely played a huge practical joke on Dad. Grandma looked lost.  
  
"What joke? I don't remember your mother playing jokes." she said in a confused voice.  
  
"What do you think Gordon was?" Virgil grinned indicating me. "You gotta admit that was one great big practical joke Grandma."  
  
"Yeah one that backfired." Scott chimed in. "Now we're stuck with him so I guess the joke's on us."  
  
I frowned. These guys might think they had a sense of humour but in my opinion it was a mighty warped one.  
  
I don't remember when it was that I first decided one of the best ways to pass the time away was to enjoy setting up the misfortune of others. I know I was only seven when Alan and I decided to play our first practical joke together. Naturally it was on Grandma and the plan was to substitute the self- raising flour with plain flour in Grandma's kitchen. Alan didn't want to do it originally but I convinced him it would be fun to watch Grandma's face when her culinary masterpiece didn't rise as she anticipated.  
  
"But she'll throw it away and we won't get to eat it then." Alan whined, still a most unwilling accomplice when it came down to matters concerning his stomach.  
  
"No she won't. It'll taste the same." I assured him. "It'll just be flat and she won't know why."  
  
And so our pranks were born and the first one went off beautifully. Poor Grandma. I can still see her face when she took that cake out of the oven and it was flatter than anything she'd ever attempted in her life. She reddened, scratched her head, read the recipe again and looked at the flour container. We would have gotten away with it except one very stupid and desperate little brother piped up begging her to please not throw it away as it would still taste the same. Grandma's not stupid. A little slow sometimes but not stupid. She put one and one together really fast and came up with two naughty little Tracy boys. We found out crime was fun but it certainly didn't pay as both of us were relegated to washing dishes for two full days for our efforts.  
  
One of my biggest mistakes was the Christmas party debacle with Dad. As I have said before I sure as heck did not inherit my sense of humour from my Father. He's as staid and serious as an undertaker particularly when he's around his business associates and unfortunately it was his business associates he was around when I "accidentally" set the sprinkler timer incorrectly in the back garden.  
  
Despite Dad's hatred of socialising, each year he had Grandma arrange for a Christmas get together for his close associates. Most of them were worth millions to the company and usually Dad took them to lunch somewhere fancy where they all sat around drinking expensive scotch and talking about nothing but business.   
  
The year I turned nine, Grandma decided it would be better and less formal if Dad invited them to our home for a cocktail party in the newly landscaped back garden. She invited their wives too. Dad was a bit dubious but after Grandma informed him how she was going to set things up he was very happy with the idea. The party went into full swing with men in black business suits and ladies in black cocktail dresses. It always amazed me how everyone in business always wore black and how important they looked or at least pretended to look. Alan and I sat upstairs overlooking the party from the security of our room. Dad had told us to make ourselves scarce.   
  
We watched Scott, Virgil and Johnny walking about in their black suits like miniature Dads offering savouries and drinks. We watched our Father moving from one group of Associates to the other making very sure not to ignore anyone.   
  
Then it happened.   
  
There was a loud click within ten metres of where my Father stood speaking to one of the most influential people in NASA. Dad's eyes riveted in the direction of the noise and not five seconds later the newly installed sprinkler system came on and not moderately either. The whole back garden erupted in a sea of water and the two of us nearly split our sides laughing as men and women ducked and weaved for cover and despite their efforts all ended up soaking wet. The trouble was so did Dad, wearing his brand new and extremely expensive suit.  
  
I might tell you some of those women became pretty darned scary as their mascara ran but even they weren't as scary as the look we got from Dad when he cast his eyes upwards towards our bedroom window. He knew it was us and boy did the two of us pay for the laugh we got that day. We didn't wash dishes this time. We got it right in the seat of our pants when Dad got his hands on us.  
  
After the long lecture and well deserved caning from Dad for ruining the party Alan decided he'd give up his life of crime once and for all, well that sort of crime anyway. This left me to plan my own pranks and as I grew older my imagination ran wild.  
  
Poor Grandma. She was always the subject my pranks. Half the time she didn't even know she was. Things would just "go wrong" for her and she would remark what a dreadful day she was having. Even the day she lost her petticoat at the market she simply shook her head and commented they didn't make petticoats like they used to.  
  
My brothers were the best targets. Like Dad none of them had a great sense of humour and they didn't take too kindly to the things I did.   
  
I remember taking a dislike to that girl Scott went bananas over… Adelaide whatever her name was. Boy was she ever one stuck up accessory. She walked around our house with her nose in the air. Even Grandma commented Scott was like a love sick kitten around her. Kitten? Naturally that gave me an idea.  
  
Scott loves seafood. He always has. Give my big brother a meal of lobster and fresh bread and he's a man who's gone to heaven. Back in those days he liked nothing better than to have a sandwich with some sort of seafood filling after school. Grandma didn't mind it herself and had no qualms about making it for him. One afternoon Scott of course had brought Miss Adelaide home and in his usual bossy voice told me, not asked me, to go and get he and Adelaide something to eat while they started their homework.   
  
I gave him a wry grin.   
  
Sure, why not! I just so happened to have had a can of cat food in my room that I'd been keeping for such an auspicious occasion and I happily made them a tasty little snack to have with their coffee.  
  
"Here you go." I said as I walked into his room interrupting his "homework".  
  
"Don't you know how to knock?" he growled as he and Adelaide broke apart.  
  
"Yep I do." I replied. "Hope it's how you like it." I grinned setting the plate down on his sideboard.  
  
"Look can't you see I'm busy?" he snapped.  
  
"Yep." I said standing in the doorway hoping to watch his face when he took a bite.  
  
"Well get outta here." he said much to my disappointment. I wanted to see him screw up his face and tell Grandma the tuna was off.   
  
It turned out even better than I planned. They actually ate the whole thing and when Scott commented to Grandma that she should buy that brand of tuna again, I almost exploded with laughter. I simply had to let him know so I "anonymously" left my calling card; the empty tin and a note. Scott went ten shades of green at the thought of it and he couldn't do a darned thing to me because I threatened to tell Adelaide he had not only offered but encouraged her to eat cat food.  
  
Then there was Virgil and the sheet music. Virgil is a hopeless case of perfection plus when it comes to the writing and performance of music. Everything has to be flawless and everything usually is. To me, music was simply some useless looking dots on lined paper. Who cared what order the dots came in? Unfortunately for him as it turned out, I sure didn't.  
  
"Hey Dad… Grandma. Listen to this and tell me what you think." he said as he seated himself confidently at the piano. "I've been writing this for a couple of days now and I think it's a knockout."  
  
Dad put down his paper, Grandma put down her knitting, I put down my book; all of us prepared to listen. Then he started. You have never heard such a disharmony of discordant notes in your entire life. Dad looked at Grandma. Grandma looked at Dad. No-one looked at me thank goodness.   
  
"Err … it's certainly different son." Dad said trying his best to be polite. "What do you think Mother?  
  
Grandma stammered. "Oh ... ummm.. mmmm...I'm with your Father. But I think it needs a bit more work though sweetie."  
  
Virgil reddened. He couldn't figure out how he could have made that many mistakes. He glared at me as an instant suspect but I feigned my innocence pleading total lack of musical ear. Luckily Dad and Grandma distracted him with their words of "keep working son. I'm sure it will turn out OK.."  
  
Then there was Johnny; my ever so serious middle brother. Of all my brothers he had the least sense of humour and suffered from nerves the worst. That was obvious when he was called upon to address the student body of Parkhurst Junior High on the benefits of joining the Astronomy Club. He didn't eat for three days beforehand he was so worried.   
  
"Is your brother always this nervous?" my pal Tom asked me as we sat in the front row at Junior High Assembly watching Johnny pacing about like a demented lion waiting for his turn to speak.  
  
"Oh he's nervous all right." I grinned. "And he's got good reason to be."  
  
Poor Johnny. I looked at him as he took the podium coughing with nervous asthma at the thought of having to address the whole student body little knowing I had replaced his notes with a poster of a star and the nursery rhyme he had recited over and over again as a child. As he prepared to speak in front of the student body he opened the cylinder and found the poster. His whole face fell to the ground as he realised he had nothing to refer to and all he could do was rely on his wits. Somehow he managed to pull through the experience but when it was over I knew he would be headed in my direction.  
  
Funnily enough he never made it to where I sat. He was surrounded by potential astronomers at the conclusion of the speech and simply couldn't get mad at me because the school astronomy club enrolled thirty nine new members. Johnny is often called upon to lecture on astronomy these days and he's now very confident. He should be very grateful to his little brother for setting him on his way. That's the way I see it anyway.   
  
Then of course there was Alan, the most sought after target of all. He really wasn't much fun until I figured out he had a one big weakness; his thing for Tin-Tin Kyrano. He was so pathetic where she was concerned. It was obvious he was in love with her and even more obvious that he wanted that love to move to a more physical level. She on the other hand was as cool as a cucumber and whilst I didn't know for sure if the feeling was mutual, my instincts told me it was.   
  
Naturally I went with my instincts and decided it was time for the two of them to come out of the closet and admit to each other that things were hotting up between them. What better way than to introduce the very symbol that things were. The trouble was I only expected Alan to unpack his shopping purchases in front of Tin-Tin, not Dad, Grandma and Kyrano too. I can assure you unpacking a packet of condoms in front of that audience is not funny to say the least and Alan has honestly never forgiven me for that.   
  
The trouble with playing pranks is the victims always want revenge. I've been on the receiving end of quite a few pay backs in my time from my brothers but pranks at school only ended up with me in hot water with Dad. I went though a period of weekly suspensions for my efforts at Parkhurst Junior High and after a while Dad had quite frankly had enough of getting the daily call from the Principal.  
  
The day he got the call about me sabotaging a science experiment was the last straw for him. There had been no damage done to any of the students or the lab thank goodness but all the science tests for my class had been burnt to a crisp. The Principal had suspended me immediately afterwards telling me I wasn't to return to school "until my Father talked some sense into me."   
  
Naturally I was hauled off to his room the moment I walked through the door.  
  
"Why did you go and do something crazy like that for Gordon?" he ranted at me. "Now everyone has to do their tests again including you."  
  
I sat in the chair in the corner of his room biting my lip and trying not to laugh. Memories of my science teacher racing about trying to save the science tests made it hard to keep a straight face.  
  
"Gee Dad." I swallowed trying to be serious. "I didn't mean for it to end up in a fireball."   
  
"Wipe the grin off your face right now and try to be serious about life for a change." he rumbled. "I'm tired of your pranks Gordon and so is everyone else. I swear if I have to speak to you one more time this week I swear..."  
  
"Aww Dad." I frowned. "Lighten up. You're too serious about everything. No-one got hurt Sir."   
  
"Don't you tell me to lighten up." he thundered. "I know no-one got hurt but one day someone will son. Now I'm telling you for the last time … tow the line … you understand me?"  
  
I sighed and sank unhappily into the chair as he eyeballed me. "Yes Sir." I said in a disgruntled voice.  
  
Dad sighed and said as much to himself as to me, "The way you're going Gordon you won't make it to adulthood."  
  
At that moment I looked in the direction of Dad's sideboard where Mom's picture now stood. Her face captivated me as he uttered those words. It was like she was calling me to her and telling me that my Father was right.  
  
"You're right Dad." I said as I stood up to leave.   
  
Dad looked at me strangely. He had noticed me looking at the picture and it obviously worried him because he mentioned it to Grandma.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous Jeff." she exclaimed. "That red haired son of yours is flat out having any sense at all let alone a sixth sense. You're imagining things as usual."  
  
Funny thing was as she said it her own eyes were wary.   
  
It was the second warning.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
ACCIDENTALLY EXPERIENCED  
  
Being a prankster and a person who has no fear of anything certainly has gotten me into some sticky situations over the years but none was more memorable than situation I found myself in at the National Swimming Championships. I was sixteen years old.  
  
The National Championship Meet was the qualifying event for selection into the Olympic Team. It was crucial that I swam well at the event and unfortunately for me, Dad had not allowed me to attend any more than my usual allotted training session of once per day in the lead up to the event. No-one knew how I would perform at the Championship and Dad decided to accompany me to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.  
  
He did not allow me to travel with the State Team. He insisted he flew me there himself.  
  
"Don't be disappointed if you fail to meet the qualifying time son." he said to me as we jetted across the country in his private plane. "As long as you give this your best shot I'll be pleased."  
  
Well I gave more than the swimming Championships my best shot let me tell you and despite the fact that my Father hardly let me out of his sight I managed quite successfully to turn myself into a man.  
  
The day I qualified to represent the United States at the Olympic Games was a day for me to remember all right and I'm not talking about swimming either.  
  
It was November 29 the year before the Olympics. I had won my qualifying race easily that afternoon and Dad had been stunned. So stunned he even allowed me to hang around with the rest of team while he went to make some of his beloved business calls.   
  
"You mind yourself son." he warned as he went to leave. "Stay with the team and do as you're told."  
  
"Yes Sir." I replied.  
  
Well … I did do what Dad said. I did as I was told and what I was told to do put me into a position where I ended up having my first real experience with a girl. Trouble was she was no girl. She was twenty one years old.  
  
It was Mark's fault. Mark was the captain of the swimming team, who, like me hailed from the east coast. He was twenty four; a freestyler who was tall, brash and fast... and full of mischief. I often kicked about with him because we shared the same sense of humour. He'd won his race earlier in the day too but still had three others to go. He was having a tustle with the Captain of the Oklahoma team on who would be the National Captain for the Games.  
  
He was acutely aware of my youth and very aware of the fact that I had been giving one or two of the female swimmers in the team more than a cursory glance over the past few weeks.  
  
"Hey Tracy." he called across the room in front of three of the guys, "Why don't you go and check out the talent while you're waiting for your Father. "  
  
I reddened as the other guys laughed. They were all in their twenties too and from the conversation they'd all been having it was just as well my Father made me fly down with him. Quite a bit of fraternising had been going on between the male and female camps and none of it was to do with swimming.  
  
"What do you mean?" I frowned.   
  
  
  
Mark lifted his eyebrows and threw a glance towards the door.  
  
"Women's two hundred metres is in the showers." he winked. "That little blonde from Utah you like is in there."  
  
"Err…" I began, remembering my Father's warning. "That's against the rules isn't it?"  
  
Mark shook his head.   
  
"Not in any rule book I've ever read. What's the matter kid? You chicken or something?"  
  
My hackles raised. No-one called me a chicken ever and when Randy, a backstroke swimmer came straight out and said, "He's only sixteen. The little boy from Boston wouldn't even know what he was looking at.", there was no way I wasn't going to rise to the challenge.  
  
"I'm from New York." I spat as I pulled on my tracksuit. "We moved there last Fall."  
  
"Papers still call you the little boy from Boston." he teased.  
  
  
  
Well that was it for me and the rest I can truly say was history. I learned more about life in those showers with that twenty one year old than I learned in twelve years of schooling that's for sure. If I didn't know what I was looking at before I went in there I sure as hell did when I came out.  
  
As I sat next to Dad on the way back to New York the day after hearing of my selection in the Olympic team he felt the need to give me one of his deep and meaningful lectures about life. I listened attentively.  
  
"Winning is the optimum son but you need to remember that it's the experience of giving things your best shot that makes young boys grow into men. I hope your experience this week-end has taught you that."   
  
My mind dwelled back to the showers.  
  
"Oh yes Sir." I grinned sincerely. "I gave everything I attempted this weekend my best shot."  
  
Maybe I was a little too sincere. Dad gave me a strange look before the lecture ended.   
  
Unlike what had happened the previous year with Johnny, Dad never found out about me.  
  
Naturally Grandma found out. I still don't know how but all I can think of is that she was eavesdropping in the garden when I was telling Alan about my experience.   
  
Alan was wild now, constantly in trouble with Dad for one crazy stunt after the next. Poor Dad when I think about it. He had to tolerate me playing pranks one minute and Alan doing something stupid the next. The two of us really gave our Father hell in our teens.  
  
Alan, rife with hormones, was insanely jealous when I told him what I had experienced.   
  
"What was it like?" he asked, his blue eyes as wide as saucers.  
  
Like I said we had no secrets from each other. Thanks to me he soon knew what it was like and soaked up the information like a sponge.  
  
Unfortunately so did Grandma.  
  
That evening when we went inside for supper Grandma wasn't happy. You could always tell when Grandma wasn't too pleased about something. The pots and pans copped one hell of a caning in the kitchen and everyone held their breath fearing for the well-being of the crockery as it was banged down on the table.   
  
Well that night was no exception. Dad was in the lounge reading his newspaper and Alan and I were watching television when Grandma started clanging and banging every saucepan she could find. Soon the drawers rattled and the cutlery was slammed down on the servery. Dad looked over at the two of us with a worried expression.  
  
"Uh oh." he said rising to his feet and moving quickly in the direction of the dining room.  
  
"Mother ... "he called. "Don't worry about the glasses. I'll get them out for you all right?"  
  
Alan looked at me nervously.  
  
"It's not me." he said. "I haven't done anything."  
  
I shrugged.  
  
"Well I haven't either. I haven't been home to get into trouble. It must be you."  
  
He frowned. "It isn't me."  
  
I rolled my eyes at him. "It's always you."  
  
Grandma's mood didn't improve over dinner that's for sure.   
  
Despite Dad carefully placing the expensive italian glassware on the table, his diligence was all in vain. Grandma smashed the dish of potatoes down so hard next to her glass of wine the vibration it caused tipped the glass over and rolled it onto the floor where it smashed into a thousand pieces.   
  
That really got her going then.  
  
"Get everything off that table Jeff." she stormed as she barged across the room and threw open the linen press to find another cloth. "Move it!"  
  
It was funny watching Dad doing as he was told. He, like us knew better than to do otherwise when Grandma was like this.  
  
We finally sat down to supper and everyone was watching everyone else to see who Grandma was mad at. After about ten minutes of Grandma's disapproving glares across the table, I started to realise it was me. I swallowed and tried to think what I'd done or hadn't done that would get her so riled up. The checklist went through my head,  
  
"Sweep the path, take out the trash, pack the dishwasher, bring in the laundry..."  
  
Nope I'd done everything I was supposed to that day.   
  
Alan in the meantime was sweating bricks that he was the one in trouble. Both of us gave Dad a terrible time but we sure didn't mess with Grandma.  
  
I could see his brain ticking over nervously as well.  
  
"Water the lawn, wash the car, sweep the garage, unpack the dishwasher ..."  
  
As the minutes ticked by it became obvious that despite doing all our required chores; one of us was about to get a reality check for something we didn't know we'd done or hadn't done.  
  
"This is a lovely dinner mother." Dad said in his most careful and appreciative voice. "Can I get you another glass of wine to replace the last one?"   
  
By his tone I think Dad thought he was in trouble too.   
  
"No thank you." she snapped giving me yet another look of complete displeasure.  
  
"By the way did you end up finding that mint in the garden?" he asked, hinting that she had forgotten to make his favourite mint sauce for dinner.  
  
"No I did not." she replied nearly biting Dad's head off. "I was doing OTHER things in the garden this evening."  
  
Again her eyes glared at me.  
  
"That's OK." Dad swallowed. "I know how busy we keep you."  
  
Yep, Dad thought he was the one in trouble all right.  
  
"I'll clear the dishes for you tonight Grandma." Alan quaked, opening his mouth for the first time since he sat down at the table.  
  
No, Alan thought he was the one in trouble.  
  
It occurred to me if Scott, Virgil and Johnny were home they'd be probably thinking it was them too.  
  
Grandma stood up abruptly and eyed everyone. However her focus was on me.  
  
"All of you just leave off!" she said through gritted teeth. "You don't have to patronise me. It's not as if I'm twenty one anymore."  
  
The emphasis on the twenty-one was too obvious even for me to miss. My face reddened as I realised she had overheard me in the garden telling Alan everything about my first time. I cringed at the thought of her hearing some of details I'd given him and started to panic. If Grandma told Dad what I'd been up to, totally unprotected and with a twenty-one year old woman into the bargain, my life would effectively be over. I remembered only too vividly how Dad had reacted when Johnny was caught out in High school and I was a year younger than Johnny had been.   
  
Obviously so did Grandma.  
  
She stormed off into the kitchen calling me to come after her and help with the dessert. As I shook in my shoes next to her in the kitchen she made at least ten more references to "twenty one" and I got the message loud and clear that she knew all right. To say she was displeased was an understatement and I anxiously waited all night for the reality check I knew would be coming my way.  
  
But she didn't say anything to me and she never said anything to Dad.   
  
However I might say that even though I lost my innocence well over six years ago I'm still nervously awaiting the day Grandma says her piece to me.   
  
We don't get away with anything around our Grandma.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~  
  
ACCIDENTALLY KILLED  
  
Umm ... I don't want to talk about this so I'm going to keep it short and sweet. I'm sure Grandma's told you enough about my hydrofoil accident without me going into too much detail.  
  
It still hurts to think about it and it's even harder for me to talk about it.   
  
You see despite me being nothing like my Father in looks, interests or mannerisms, I have more in common with him than all of my brothers put together.  
  
I know how my Father felt to lose someone who was everything to him. I know how much the mere mention of her name hurt him. I also know why he kept himself ridiculously busy and pretended she never existed. He did it to ease the pain he felt in his heart.   
  
I don't talk or think about Jezzica Parker either because I simply can't deal with it and like Dad this is the only way I've been able to cope.  
  
Jezzica and I went to the same High school but we were in different classes and with my swimming commitments for the Olympics I didn't even notice her until our Senior Year. She was the daughter of a marine biologist and had a fascination with the water. That was how we originally "found" each other. When I retired from swimming after the Olympics at the insistence of my Father, he allowed me to take diving lessons. She was taking lessons too.  
  
It didn't take us long to become friends due to our similar interests and the more I kicked about with my "friend" Jezzie, the more I grew to like her.  
  
She was a very pretty girl, tall, with blonde hair the colour of straw and green eyes like emeralds. Mischievous wasn't the word for Jezzica; she was simply wicked. She had a tremendous sense of humour, a great appreciation of fun and like me felt everyone around her took life far too seriously.  
  
"Life is for living Gordie." she exclaimed vibrantly on more than one occasion. "People waste their lives worrying about what other people think and say and do and never get to be the people they really want to be."  
  
I totally agreed with her.  
  
The months of our senior year went on and our friendship deepened. In the last two months of high school I started to come to the realisation that I was totally infatuated with this beautiful girl. She on the other hand simply considered herself as my friend and whilst it didn't seem to be enough for me, I accepted that was all there was. I trusted her completely and confided in her about everything. Only Jezzica knew that I didn't want to go to College and how scared I was at having to tell my Father what I wanted to do with my life.  
  
"Just tell him Gordon." she frowned as we sat together during recess."Just walk up to him and say Dad I don't want to go to College."  
  
I shook my head. "You don't understand Jezz. This is Jeff Tracy I'm talking about not a regular Father."  
  
She shrugged. "So? He's still your Father isn't he?"  
  
"Yes." I replied.  
  
"He'd want you to be happy wouldn't he?"  
  
"Yes I guess he would."  
  
"Well tell him what you want to do after High School."  
  
"I can't Jezzie." I admitted. "He'll flip."  
  
"My Father didn't flip." she said. "He's disappointed I've decided not to go to College but he knows WASP is a great career choice for someone like me. He understands I'd probably have enlisted after College anyway. So why wait?"  
  
She had one straight head on her shoulders my Jezz. She knew what she wanted to get out of life and she simply went ahead and got it for herself. I wished I could be the same.  
  
"My Dad's idea of a great career choice is to go to College and then join the Air Force or NASA." I sighed. "He won't consider anything else and it doesn't help that Scott's doing so well in the Air Force in Nebraska and Virgil and Johnny are in Colleges doing what he wants them to do."  
  
"But you're not like your brothers." she insisted trying to make me see reason. "You don't look like them so why should you act like them? If you want to join WASP do it Gordon. Just tell your Father you're enlisting and do it."  
  
She made it sound so easy. To her way of thinking it was.  
  
Boy was she wrong. Jezzica might have known me well but she certainly didn't know my Father.  
  
Dad went absolutely ballistic when I plucked up the courage to tell him. He almost blew the roof off when I told him I hadn't completed the forms he'd given me for Yale. I told him I hadn't filled them out by choice even though I was grateful he was prepared to send me to such a prestigious College.  
  
  
  
"You'll complete those forms after supper tonight." he thundered. "...and I expect to see them on the table next to my coffee first thing in the morning ready for me to sign."  
  
"No Dad." I said shakily. "I don't want to go to Yale or any other College for that matter."  
  
Dad gave me a swift and dangerous look.  
  
"You'll do as I blasted well tell you." he warned. "College has been good enough for your older brothers and it's certainly good enough for you."  
  
Jezz's words echoed in my head.  
  
"I'm not like my brothers Father." I replied. "I want to join the World Aquanaut Security Patrol and I don't need to go to College to do it."  
  
Well that was like saying I was defecting to the enemy to an Air Force man. Dad's face reddened angrily with disbelief.  
  
"You will NOT join that outfit." he stressed adamantly.  
  
"Why can't I Dad? I love the water. WASP is a great career choice for someone like me." I pleaded using Jezz's words.   
  
"You are not enlisting in WASP Gordon." Dad yelled. "You are going to Yale and then you're going to do a stint in the Air Force to give you a bit of sense and discipline which I might say has been sadly lacking in you these past few years."  
  
"Dad please." I implored. "I don't want to join the Air Force ..."  
  
I lowered my voice and looked him straight in the eye. "... and you can't make me Sir because I simply won't do it."  
  
I can tell you standing up to my Father that day was the bravest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Even Grandma couldn't believe it by the look on her face. She hurriedly rose from where she sat and stood between us. She could see Dad's face and knew what was coming next.  
  
"Now you two stop all your arguing right this minute and back off until you can be civil to each other." she ordered glaring from Dad to me to Dad..  
  
"Mother…" Dad rumbled in a tone even Grandma recognised as dangerous. "…stay out of this please."  
  
Grandma turned to me and gave me a look which told me to stop arguing with my Father because I wasn't going to win this time and even she could see it.  
  
"Now you listen here." Dad said through gritted teeth. "Don't you start acting defiantly around me. I know where all this is coming from don't you worry. You haven't been thinking straight since you took up with that Parker girl and I am not going to stand by and watch you throw away your life chasing after some little skirt you happen to have taken a fancy to."  
  
That comment really made me see red and I had nearly as much of my Grandfather's temper in me as Alan did when I was riled up. As I said before, I was not afraid of my Father and I didn't take too kindly to the inference about Jezz, especially when it wasn't true.  
  
"Her name is Jezzica Dad and she is not just some little skirt I have taken a fancy to." I spat looking him straight in the eyes. "She's my friend and that's all. It's true she's enlisting in WASP too but I wanted to enlist long before she ever came on the scene. I know I'm only seventeen and you think I'm not capable of making any decisions of my own but I can tell you right here and now I won't be following in your footsteps and walking on the moon. You might have walked up there Dad and made a lot of money as a result of who you are but you're still on the moon if you think I want to be like you."  
  
I stood there rebelliously eye to eye with my Father. He raised his hand to slap me.  
  
Now it was Grandma's turn to see red.   
  
"Gordon that's enough! Go to your room please." she commanded. "This is a silly fruitless argument that isn't achieving anything for either of you."  
  
"Mother..." Dad growled.  
  
"Grandma..." I protested.  
  
"Hush that big mouth of yours and go I said!" she ordered looking me full in the face. "And don't you come out of there until you're prepared to apologise for what you just said to your Daddy. It was downright rude young man; rude, ungrateful and totally uncalled for."  
  
I glared at Dad and angrily stalked from the room thinking Grandma had sided with him. However before I'd even gotten out of earshot Grandma turned on him too.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing son?" she demanded. "Have you already forgotten everything you went through as a young man?"  
  
I've never heard Dad speak to Grandma as disrespectfully as he did right then.  
  
"Mind your business for a change mother and leave me to attend to matters that concern me and my son not you."   
  
Dad's rudeness was like water off a duck's back to Grandma. Her tone became as obnoxious as his.  
  
"These matters do concern me." she snarled. "I've raised that youngster from a baby in case you've forgotten."  
  
"Well you should have raised him to listen to those who know better than he does." Dad shot back.  
  
"Why should he listen when you don't!" she flashed. " Has it been too many billion dollars ago that you can't remember how unhappy you were driving that Tractor for your Daddy day in day out knowing it wasn't what you wanted to do with yourself?"  
  
"This is totally different ..." he interjected  
  
"It's NOT different." she interrupted. "It's exactly the same and don't you kid yourself otherwise. I remember how miserable you were in those fields and if it wouldn't have been for me making your Father see reason you'd still be there carving out a mediocre living for yourself."  
  
"Mother ... I knew farming wasn't what I wanted to do."   
  
Grandma had an answer for everything.   
  
"No it wasn't. I know that and you know that but your Father didn't see that did he? All he knew is that he thought he knew what was best for his son. It wasn't easy making him open his eyes to see how miserable his dreams were making you and I can tell you right here and right now you're acting just the same as he did the moment… mule-headed, stubborn and totally blind to the feelings of your son. "  
  
"Mom that's not true. I at least tried to do what Dad wanted before I turned my back on it. That kid of mine isn't even prepared to consider it."  
  
"Why should he consider it? He point blank doesn't want to do it Jeff and if that isn't enough for you to stop and think about things, you also need to take a step back and remember whose son you're dealing with here."  
  
There was silence and then Grandma's voice cut the air with a knife.  
  
"Don't you look at me like you don't know what I mean because I know you know exactly what I mean . That's Lucy's son I've just sent upstairs to cool off. He is every bit as stubborn and self willed as she was and like her you aren't going to get him to do anything he doesn't want to do no matter how much you carry on. In case you've forgotten she stood up for herself more than capably and I'm warning you that boy of hers isn't afraid to stand up for himself either."  
  
Dad didn't reply and when it was obvious he didn't have anything he could say she added.   
  
"You answer me this Jeff Tracy; if your Lucy was standing here in front of you right now whose side do you think she'd be on; yours or your son's?"   
  
End of argument.  
  
The next day my Father reluctantly signed the forms to allow me to enlist in WASP.  
  
This might sound ungrateful but I wish my Grandma would have kept out of our argument that night. If she had kept out of things I know Dad would have forced me to go to Yale despite my protests and Jezzie would have gone to WASP without me.   
  
If that was the case Jezzica probably would still be alive today.  
  
However fate ticked on.  
  
The two of us spent the next two and half years in WASP together. I was a Tracy son and that seemed to count for something no matter where because I quickly progressed through the Ranks in WASP and was promoted to Lieutenant. Jezz was in my squadron and when I was promoted to Lieutenant and I was made her direct Commander. We both loved the sea and loved the work and despite things still being tense between myself and my Father, life was pretty damned good all round for me.   
  
I was hopelessly in love with Jezzica which made being her Commander difficult. Even more difficult was me trying to tell her how I felt about her off base and sounding like I really meant it. She was used to me joking around all the time and she joked about too. The words "I love you" didn't mean the same when they were accompanied by a cheeky grin and tray full of ice tossed down her back.  
  
Eight days before she died I took her home to Tracy Island to meet my Grandma. I knew Grandma would like her. Everyone who met Jezzie liked her, including Dad who was slowly coming around to admitting I had done the right thing joining WASP.  
  
As we joked about with Grandma in the kitchen I saw her give me a look like the one she now gives Alan when he teases Tin-Tin. It's a special look I can't really describe but it told me she believed I had found my soul-mate and she unequivocally approved.  
  
Our visit with Grandma was a very special and wonderful few days. The two of us wandered together along the beach on Tracy Island and it was on that beach we finally admitted our love for each other. There were no jokes as I held her in my arms on the darkened shore that beautiful Summer night. There was only the stark admission to Jezzica Parker that I loved her with all my heart and everything that was within me. She shyly told me she felt the same.   
  
It was during that visit that we also took the final step and consummated that love.  
  
Naturally there has to be a touch of mischief to be had in everything momentous that I do. I'm not the prankster in this family for nothing. What better way to make a statement to my Father that I was a man now than to experience Jezzica Parker for the first time in the middle of his king-sized bed. I can honestly say he'd kill me if he found out.  
  
However don't get me wrong on this one. It was a risk doing it and I didn't risk it alone. You guessed it. My partner in crime came back for one last encore. Alan made sure he kept Grandma very busy during that magical hour Jezzie and I became one in Dad's room. Only Alan knew how much I loved Jezz and only he knows how much I miss her now.   
  
The day we left Tracy Island was the day the third warning came. We were ribbing each other about her being "under me" in WASP. Her reply to that was the day she ever acknowledged she was under me would be the day she was dead. Grandma looked worried at that comment but being young and brash and in love I thought nothing of it.  
  
It was because she was under me that I commanded she and three other members of my squadron accompany me out in rough seas to test a new hydrofoil. My own Commander indicated he wanted to come but as the Lieutenant I insisted I was to be in command of the hydrofoil. None of us knew how it would cope in the conditions.  
  
"Keep a level head Lieutenant." my Commander said as we powered out into the bay. "I haven't got a good feeling about this for some reason."  
  
The last thing I remember about Jezz was looking at her beautiful features from where I stood pushing the hydrofoil towards maximum speed. Her blonde hair was plaited and she cut one hell of a figure in her uniform. I smiled at her and she winked at me. I shuddered with desire for her. I increased speed as our eyes locked.  
  
Without warning I heard my Commander yell loudly to me to slow down. My eyes riveted to the controls. We were overspeed. I desperately slammed the throttle . The Hydrofoil wouldn't slow down. I felt it leaving my control and become airborne. I saw her eyes round in terror. I heard her scream… I heard everyone scream.  
  
That's all I can remember.  
  
The next thing I can actively recall in my mind after that was looking at a light; a bright white iridescent light in the distance beckoning me to advance towards it. It was a light so brilliant that I was completely mesmerised. I felt myself moving forward as if drawn by a magnet.  
  
I never reached it.  
  
A hand touched my shoulder and a young and very pretty woman came to stand between me and the object of my fascination. Her face was painfully familiar and I recognised it immediately thanks to the picture Grandma had shown me in secret all those years ago.  
  
"Momma?" I heard myself enquire. She nodded and remained silent.  
  
She was every bit as beautiful as she appeared in her photograph… long curly hair … velvet brown eyes, a smile not unlike my own and a scent … I swear even now I can smell it … an unmistakable scent of lavender.   
  
I stared at her for what seemed an eternity. She wore such a face of peace and of love that I could only feel safe beside her. I never knew her but I still felt safe. However it wasn't until she spoke that something really stirred in my distant memory…something that recognised her voice as the one that once sounded reassuringly in the night when a little red-haired baby cried.  
  
"Don't cry baby." the distant voice in my memory echoed. "It's all right. Momma's here with you."  
  
I felt her hand lightly brush my cheek. Her feathery touch felt like the kiss of an angel as it lingered on my chin.  
  
"My precious baby boy …" she said lovingly. "I've missed you."  
  
I continued to stare in awe at the figure I saw before my eyes.  
  
"Gordie …" she whispered. "As much as I love you, you must know you have come to me before your time." she said gently. "You don't belong here yet baby."  
  
I remember shaking my head as everything inside me reared up in denial and told me I was meant to be with her.   
  
I heard my voice stammer.  
  
"Please… no … momma… I … I want to stay… I want to stay with you."  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"No you must go back. You cannot come here until it is your time. Your Father needs you. There is still so much which needs to be done."  
  
She began to move away from me towards the light. Desperately I tried to follow her. She rose above me and looked down upon my captivated face  
  
"Gordon … no my darling." she said firmly." You are integral to your Father's plans for a better world. I cannot take you from him. Not yet …Go back … go back to your Daddy... and your brothers."  
  
She began to leave my vision and as she did I felt my eyes fill. She was leaving me again and I didn't want her to go.   
  
"Momma … don't leave me alone again … please …" I begged reaching my hand out to her. I clearly remember my hand was transparent.  
  
She turned back and her beautiful face lit up.  
  
"No Gordon. I may have been removed from your sight but I have never left you or your brothers alone." she said. "I will always be beside you. Now you must hear me and go back to your Father. "  
  
"But …what about Jezzie… "  
  
"I will take care of her for you Gordon." she whispered. "Your Jezzica will always be safe with me. Now … listen … listen to my voice …and go back to Daddy."  
  
My mind was suddenly overcome with that sweet lullaby she used to sing to me as a baby.   
  
I listened intently and I can honestly say I have never felt so peaceful and at rest in my whole life. It was like a hand had come over me, enveloping me, taking me within to never let me go.  
  
According to everyone I spoke to in the months that followed that moment was the point when I "died" in the hospital.  
  
But my rest in that place was short-lived. As the Doctors worked on me in the hospital she began to drift from me again and as she did she said softly.   
  
"Tell your Father I love him Gordon. Tell him there isn't a day that passes where I don't miss him and wish things were different. Tell him he's done a wonderful job raising my babies alone and I now want him to follow his dream for humanity. Tell him for me Gordon ... Tell him he must ..."  
  
As she faded away towards the light her voice trailed.  
  
"…and tell your brothers momma loves them … all of them …"  
  
As she faded away from view I saw her reach out her hand … a young girl appeared from nowhere … a pretty girl with blonde hair and emerald green eyes… that girl took her hand and went towards the light….and was gone…  
  
  
  
When I awoke from the coma all I remember seeing was my Fathers face. It was grey and as my eyes focussed on his he lowered his head and began to sob with relief.  
  
"D…D..Dad." I heard myself breathe. "What h…h…happened?"  
  
Before he could answer my baby brother pulled me to him and began crying his heart out.  
  
"Gordie." he wept. "Thank God. Thank God you're OK."  
  
Around my bed were my other brothers. Scott stood with tears sliding down his cheeks; Virgil stood holding Johnny. Next to them looking older than I'd ever seen her before was Grandma. I saw her eyes fill and close. I heard her whisper. "Thank you Lucy."   
  
Grandma told me later on that all of them had been there for nearly two weeks and whilst she and my brothers had come and gone, my Father had not left my side.   
  
Dad had showered and shaved at the hospital. He had slept next to me night and after night on a mattress on the floor. He had sat in that uncomfortable chair by my side hour after hour ….day after day. He had been by my side since the accident, flying himself across the country to the military hospital where they had taken me and steadfastly refusing to leave.  
  
I don't care what anyone says … my Dad is the most wonderful, special man who ever walked the face of this earth. I thought he worked so hard when I was a child because he only cared about making money. Nothing could ever have been further from the truth. My Father loved me more than life itself and he demonstrated that completely as he unashamedly held me close to his chest and wept, thanking mother for giving me back to him..  
  
  
  
By and by it was Dad who had to break the news that everyone on board the hydrofoil, except for me, had died. After my "experience" with Mom I already knew that Jezzica hadn't made it but it totally devastated me to learn I was the only survivor and had survived for two reasons, the Tracy will to live and Jezzica's body cushioning my impact.  
  
"Gordon… Grandma said. "You were so lucky. Your whole body was completely broken when they pulled you from that wreck."  
  
She quietly added. "If only your little girl had been that lucky sweetie."  
  
  
  
I tried not to cry about what had happened to Jezzica but it was hard. Jezzie was everything to me. I think Dad knew that by the way he held me in his arms and gave me what little comfort he could.  
  
"I know how you feel Gordon. I do son." he murmured sympathetically into my red hair. "Don't cry now … Tracy sons don't cry... come on son…please don't cry."  
  
Grandma patted my hand and said gently.  
  
"Sweetie… that dear little girl has gone to be in a better place… a place where there are no more tears and no more pain. Come now …. don't cry sweetie... your mother will look after her in heaven for you."  
  
I knew what Grandma said was the truth. Mother had promised me she would care for Jezz but I still didn't understand why she couldn't have taken me too.   
  
Mother said there was a reason. I was integral to Dad's plan for a better world.  
  
What did that actually mean?  
  
~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
ACCIDENTALLY THE AQUANAUT  
  
It took me a long time to come to grips with what had happened to me and it was a long, hard and painful road to recovery.  
  
I was in hospital for three months and endured operation after operation to repair my broken body. My body began to heal but the inward spirit that was once Gordon Cooper Tracy did not. The outward spirit seemed to be doing nicely as I grinned and joked again with my family but deep down inside I was shattered about losing Jezz.   
  
It didn't help things when I was discharged medically unfit from WASP before I had left the hospital. I knew of course I would never return to the life I loved but it was receiving and opening the letter containing my discharge that really cut me up completely. Grandma quietly held my hand as I scanned the lines.  
  
I lowered my head.  
  
"Grandma." I whispered in defeat. "They've discharged me ma'am."   
  
Despite her words of sympathy I felt that at twenty years of age, there was nothing left in my life now. I tried hard to keep up outward appearances but despite it I fell into a deep and dark depression.   
  
Thank God for the support and love of my family.  
  
Six months after I was discharged from WASP and returned home, my Father called me into his study.   
  
He had been great during my recovery; working from home to make sure I did my exercises, flying me constantly to the mainland for therapy and sitting with me in the evenings when the depression affected me the most.   
  
That day, he watched me limp to the chair and nodded approvingly.  
  
"You're coming along very nicely son." he encouraged as I sat down. "I'm pleased to see it."  
  
I nodded in acknowledgement and looked at him expectantly.  
  
As usual he got right to the point. My Father is a businessman through and through.  
  
"Gordon …" he began in his powerful and unwavering voice. "I want you to come and work for me son."  
  
I cringed. I'd been waiting for this. I knew he'd be wanting me to take some boring desk job in Tracy Enterprises for the rest of my life. I had to ... I couldn't do anything else.  
  
If I hadn't considered myself as the black sheep of the family before, I sure as hell did now.   
  
Scott was a Captain in the Air Force on the verge of entering Red Flag, Virgil was piloting commercial aircraft, Johnny was high tailing it through the ranks in NASA and even Alan, my wild and impetuous baby brother had just graduated from College with honours and was in Astronaut training. I must have been a real thorn in Dad's side. Afterall Jeff Tracy couldn't have one of his sons not achieving something could he?  
  
Tears filled my eyes. I knew I had to accept his offer even though I didn't want to do it.  
  
"OK Father." I replied as I lowered my head and twisted my hands together miserably. "Whatever you say Sir."  
  
Dad said nothing for a few moments before continuing.  
  
"Don't you want to ask me a bit about it son?"  
  
I shook my head.   
  
"No Sir. I know I have to do something with myself. When do you want me to start in New York?"  
  
Dad laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. It hurt for him to touch me but his touch was warm and loving and I needed it right now.  
  
"Son … this job isn't in New York. It's here on Tracy Island… with your brothers"  
  
At my perplexed look Dad said quietly.  
  
"Son … do you remember that message you gave me when you woke from the coma?"  
  
I nodded and replied quietly. "Yes Sir I do."  
  
I clearly remembered relaying the words I had heard or thought I had heard from Mother's lips as she wafted away.   
  
"Tell him he's done a wonderful job raising my babies and I want him to follow his dream for humanity..."  
  
I had been nervous to tell him because I knew he didn't like us talking about Mom but Dad had listened open-mouthed and then simply stared at me in stark amazement not believing what he had just heard. I had delivered her approval to him. The approval he had been hoping to receive for over five years as he stared up into the night sky praying for her guidance. He had looked for a sign it was the right thing to do. Thanks to me he now knew it was. Her words strengthened his resolve and reinforced his vision that the world needed something like International Rescue.   
  
Dad then explained he wanted me to be his Aquanaut. He pointed out how well I could swim and dive and snorkel. I shook my head and pointed out my body was now broken. He told me my body was healing fine and he had nothing but complete confidence in my ability.  
  
"But I need you back in the water immediately son." he said briskly. "You have to get your nerve back because you're the only one I can rely on to man Thunderbird Four."  
  
A wry smile fell over his face as he looked at me.   
  
"And let's face it Gordon Cooper Tracy …" he grinned as my eyes shone with gratitude. "I can't put you in the Pilot's seat son."  
  
"I know how much you've always hated to fly."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
Well here we are back at the party and I'm feeling like a turkey the week before Thanksgiving.   
  
"I'm gone."  
  
I hear a voice rumble from the kitchen.  
  
"Gordon Tracy. You get yourself into this kitchen in front of me right this very minute."  
  
I look at Alan and then at Tin-Tin. I frown as I then look in the direction of Grandma's voice.  
  
"This is all your fault." I say accusingly to my little brother.   
  
Alan shakes his head as he swallows a glass of Dad's 100 year old scotch.  
  
"Don't blame me if you're in trouble with Grandma." he replies. "That's your doing."  
  
"I'm in trouble because of you." I argue as she calls me again with real aggravation in her voice.  
  
It's not my fault you can't stop playing jokes on people. "he replies "Boy… that's good Scotch all right." he murmurs as he waters his watering eyes.   
  
"Yeah well you're going to get it when Dad gets back in here." I warn.  
  
Grandma's voice rings out for a third time.  
  
"Forget about me." he grins and throws a "friendly" arm around Tin-Tin's shoulders. "You're about to get it NOW."  
  
Naturally Tin-Tin doesn't blink an eyelid. They're "just friends."   
  
I sigh audibly.  
  
"I swear you owe me Alan." I scowl as I head towards the kitchen.   
  
Johnny, Scott and Virgil roll their eyes as I pass them on their way back to the party.   
  
"Nice going Gords."  
  
"Yeah good one squirt."  
  
"I'd take cover if I were you kid."  
  
Dad passes me in the doorway and simply shakes his head.  
  
"Not one occasion ... not one I swear that I can't expect something crazy to happen because of you. "  
  
Kyrano stands inside the kitchen. His face has no emotion.  
  
"Mr. Gordon."  
  
The face behind him has more emotion than everyone put together. It's Grandma ... and boy is she on the warpath.  
  
Before I can even open my mouth she shoves a pile of cloths into my hands.  
  
"Here." she snaps. "There's TWENTY ONE of these. Now you get down on your hands and knees and wipe up all that foam and mess your Father created and you use every single one of them to do it young man."  
  
I take the cloths sheepishly and reply. "Yes Grandma ... Sorry about the mistake."  
  
As I work, I look up at her standing over me like the head Viking in charge of the slaves. I see Kyrano trying to hide an amused grin as she watches me like a hawk.   
  
"Move it." she thunders.   
  
Job complete, I rise to my feet. "There you are Grandma." I say expecting to be in her good books again. "Now let's go back to the party ..."  
  
She frowns. "That's what you think. A boy past TWENTY ONE and still playing jokes on his Grandma needs to be taught more of a lesson than that!"   
  
She grabs my arm and hauls me in the direction of the benches. She slams a knife down on the bench.  
  
"There's TWENTY ONE potatoes there in front of you. Now you peel every last one of them so Kyrano can replace the ones your Father foamed."   
  
"TWENTY ONE?" I complain. "I'll be here all night Grandma."  
  
She half closes one eye.  
  
"Are you arguing with me?" she demands.  
  
I begin to peel the potatoes. "No ma'am." I reply.  
  
She leans on the bench as I awkwardly try to use the peeler. Thank goodness I've found my calling as an Aquanaut because I'm no Chef that's for sure.  
  
"If I've told you once Gordon Cooper Tracy, I've told you TWENTY ONE times that your jokes aren't funny. TWENTY ONE other babies born that day and we had to get you."  
  
This is getting the better of me. I put down the peeler and fold my arms.  
  
"Grandma ... what's with all the sudden emphasis on twenty one?" I ask in frustration. "I don't get it."  
  
She looks me straight in the eye.  
  
"Oh I think you do young man. This prank was the last straw and it's time your Grandma who's past TWENTY ONE had something to say about your antics."  
  
I'm still confused. What revenge? What antics?  
  
"Let me see ... once upon a time there was an old Grandma who wandered in the garden in the twilight and heard a voice say he'd wiped the floor with the opposition and needed some enjoyment ... I suppose you wiping the floor reminded me of that."  
  
My eyes widen. Oh no ... here it comes.  
  
"and as the story goes that old Grandma heard the same voice say something about peeling off a bathing suit in a shower block." she continued idly picking up a potato and looking at it. "Kind of like peeling one of these wouldn't you say child?"  
  
I swallow and move about nervously. Grandma leading up to something is like watching a volcano preparing to erupt.  
  
"And of course there's that profound statement made to a certain little brother... now how did it go again ... oh yes ... it was the best experience of my life!" she finished before she banged the bench. "Peel!"  
  
I smile and feel foolish as I suddenly realise I am finally getting my reality check for what I did at the Swimming Championships all those years ago.  
  
"OK Grandma enough." I begin putting down the peeler . "You win."  
  
"Win? Win what?" she enquires tersely.   
  
"I know you know about me."  
  
She looks at me and wags her finger in my face.  
  
"Know? Oh I know all right. I also know a lot more yet young man."  
  
"Such as?" I ask worriedly  
  
"That day was not the best experience of your life." she challenged. "You know it and I know it. Peel!" she commands again.  
  
She didn't say anything further as I allowed myself to dwell on her words. She was right. The best day of my life had not been that day with the swimmer; it had been that day I had been with Jezz in Dad's bed. Nothing would ever top that in my mind.  
  
My eyes suddenly widen.  
  
"Oh no!" I exclaim as it dawns on me she knows about that too. "You can't know ..."  
  
She looks at me and says sternly.  
  
"I most certainly do know and if you play any more pranks on me again young man your Father will know about it too."  
  
I shake my head totally amazed. Lord knows how she knows about that but as usual she knows and I've given up trying to work out how.  
  
I extend my hand in a "peace offering".  
  
"OK Grandma. No more pranks." I promise.  
  
"Ever?" she asks.  
  
"No ma'am. " I agree. "ever."   
  
"Hmmm." she frowns. "I'll believe that when I don't see it."  
  
I look at her fondly. She is such a "tell like it is" person.  
  
It occurs to me how empty and sad life would be in this house without my Grandma interfering and sticking her nose into absolutely everything. Worse still what life would have been like if she hadn't answered Dad's desperate cry to help him raise five motherless little boys twenty one years ago.  
  
I can't imagine not being held lovingly by her as a frightened, motherless little toddler. It wouldn't have been the same not being told to pick up my clothes, eat my supper, respect my elders and love my family.  
  
I can't imagine not being sent to my room for a nap every five minutes or not being driven across Boston twice a day seven days a week to train.  
  
I can't imagine her not being there when I stood proudly with an olympic gold medal around my neck or when I awoke from the coma when I lost Jezz.   
  
I can't imagine having the strength to stand beside Jezzica Parker's grave without her.   
  
"Grandma ... I love you." I suddenly blurt.   
  
There no reason for me to say that and I know it won't get me out of the trouble I'm in right now but it sure feels like the right thing to say to this wonderful woman who is my Grandma.  
  
I watch as a wry smile steals over her features.   
  
"Grandma loves you too darling." she replies lovingly before slapping my rear end and turning on her heel to head back to the party.   
  
"Now young man .... let's get back to the party."  
  
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NEXT CHAPTER - FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL PART 5 - THE WORDS OF THE WILD CHILD  
  
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	14. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMGE CONTR...

Author's Note - Thank you to the Tales Readers who have been so positive. As for the others ...oh well. However I write on regardless and am happy to share with you the Tale of the Youngest Tracy son …the brat you all love to hate. Alan Shepard Tracy … Jeff Tracy's wild child. mcj  
  
CHAPTER 7 - FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - PART FIVE - WORDS FROM THE WILD CHILD  
  
Do you want to know something?  
  
I don't know what my Father would do without me.   
  
That's my honest opinion as I stand in front of him with my back to the wall of the lounge room listening to the lecture. He hasn't taken a breath for the past ten minutes I swear and by the way he's going off at me he doesn't look like he's about to take one in the foreseeable future either.  
  
Yes Dad, I know I'm only here for Grandma's party.  
  
No Dad, I wouldn't rather stay in Thunderbird Five.  
  
Yes Dad, I know the party's been going for almost an hour.  
  
No Dad, I know there's no excuse for being late.   
  
Yes Dad I know you know I was with Tin-Tin.   
  
No Dad, I wasn't doing anything with her that I'll regret later.   
  
Yes Dad, I know I should be more considerate of Grandma's feelings.  
  
No Dad, I wouldn't want to upset Grandma on her birthday.  
  
Yes Dad, I know Grandma helped you raise me from a baby.  
  
No Dad, I'm not taking Grandma for granted.  
  
Gees Dad, go fill up your glass with some of that fabulous scotch of yours and wet your vocal chords with it will you? I get the point OK?  
  
"Are you listening to me Alan?" he demands in his gruff, "I mean what I'm saying to you son" voice.  
  
I look at him and he's frowning at me.  
  
I sigh resolutely and give the usual expected reply.  
  
"Yes I am listening Sir. I'm sorry Sir."  
  
With that, he begins all over again. Again I ask you, what would Dad do without me?  
  
He'd do a pretty darned good job preaching on Sundays that's for sure. Sometimes I think he missed his calling when he became an Astronaut. Why bother being brilliant at flight and engineering when you can use the same brilliance to make wayward young men see the error of their ways!  
  
Dad give it a break for five minutes will you? I'm not really in the mood for this right now.  
  
My eyes idly scan the room as he continues to rave on about the significance of family and how important it is to be close to the ones we love. My eyes come to rest on Miss Tin-Tin Kyrano as he makes that profound and very truthful statement. With her long black hair and her deep brown eyes, beautiful face and fabulous body there's someone I like getting myself close to. As a matter of fact we were in the process of becoming mighty damned close before Gordon went and put a halt to things with his stupid prank in the kitchen.   
  
"I totally agree with you Father." I reply amiably without taking my eyes off her.  
  
Dad looks startled. You can tell he's not used to that reply, especially coming from me.  
  
"Since when do you agree with anything I say Alan?" he frowns suspiciously. His eyes follow mine and he sighs loudly and shakes his head when he sees me looking at Tin-Tin.   
  
She glances nervously in my direction and gives me a fleeting smile but on seeing Dad looking directly at her, she reddens and starts busying herself serving savouries to my brothers.  
  
Dad rivets his attention back to me, totally disgruntled.  
  
The lecture recommences, and this time it's about being responsible in a relationship.   
  
Here we go again.   
  
I know a relationship with a woman takes commitment.  
  
I know a woman isn't simply an object.  
  
I know a woman deserves respect.   
  
I know Tin-Tin isn't just any woman.  
  
"Dad please ...we're just good friends." I interrupt as Tin-Tin looks anywhere but at me.  
  
Somehow by the look I'm getting in return I should be getting a little worried that my Father has a sneaking suspicion of how "good" our friendship is. I don't know how he would know though. The two of us have been very discreet since our friendship moved to a more physical level a few weeks back. Whenever she spends the night with me no-one sees her come to my apartment, we don't make a sound , and she's always back in her own bed before her Father looks in on her in the morning.   
  
Besides my Grandma doesn't suspect anything and let me say right there and now if Grandma doesn't know about Tin-Tin and me, nobody knows. She's always the first one to find about anything going on around here. If Grandma knew Tin-Tin and me were ... well ... intimate ... all hell would have broken loose by now. I would have been dragged off by the ear immediately, lectured that Tracy sons were expected to be gentlemen and then, quite frankly, killed for upsetting the plan.  
  
You see Grandma has a master plan for Tin-Tin and me and expects it will follow the course she's had laid out for the two of us since we met twelve years ago. I'm all for some parts of the plan but I think she wanted me to put a wedding ring on Tin-Tin's finger first. Sorry Grandma … too late I'm afraid... and before you say anything, it was Tin-Tin who instigated things, not me.   
  
Well Dad might or might not suspect something is happening between us but it doesn't stop him going on and on and on about it.   
  
Yes Dad, I know it looks like there's more to it than just friendship.  
  
No Dad I know you're not stupid.  
  
Yes Dad, I remember the talk we had about that.  
  
No Dad you don't have to make it any clearer.  
  
Yes Dad, I know she's Kyrano's daughter.  
  
No Dad I don't intend to treat her like the girls you heard about when I was in College.  
  
Yes Dad, I know she's like a daughter to you too.  
  
No Dad, I'm not taking advantage of her.  
  
Yes Dad, I know Grandma treats her like a grand-daughter.  
  
Yes Dad, I know she'd kill me.  
  
Yes Dad, I know Tin-Tin's sweet and sensitive and easily hurt.  
  
Dad, you've told me more than enough times I have to be responsible for my actions.  
  
I know if anything happens I'll have to answer to you.  
  
I know I'll have to answer to Kyrano too.   
  
Dad enough of the lecture already! I've heard all of this a thousand times before.  
  
"Father." I interrupt. "Can I get you a drink Sir?"  
  
I give him the only thing the two of us have in common to try to convince him to leave off and give me a break for a while. The Tracy smile. It works for Grandma but as usual it doesn't work with him. Dad's seen me give him that smile far too often to be placated.  
  
"I'm not done with you yet son." he replies sternly.  
  
No I'll bet you're not done Dad. Let's face it I've been gone for over two weeks and you've got a lot of catching up to do.   
  
My eyes glance back to Tin-Tin and I can't help but notice those beautiful long eyelashes, those full red lips, that silky hair. Yeah I've got a lot of catching up to do too but that's certainly on the back burner now until this party's done and the lights go out tonight.  
  
You know I'd rather have Grandma give me one of her reality checks than listen to my Father's lectures on responsible behaviour. I'm not kidding you. It's murder being Jeff Tracy's son when he thinks you're doing something wrong.  
  
Dad I know I'm a Tracy son.   
  
Dad I know that means something.   
  
I know Grandpa wouldn't have tolerated this type of thing from you.  
  
I know you'd have been caned from one side of the farm to the other if you'd tried it.  
  
I know he brought you up to be a decent man and you expect nothing less from me.  
  
I know.  
  
I know.  
  
I know.  
  
Speaking of Grandma and her dreaded reality checks she's just herded Gordon into the room in front of her. Gordon is glaring at me and I can tell by the look I'm getting from him that he's copping it too and I might not be his favourite brother right at this particular minute.  
  
Well I'll tell you something Gordie, I'll swap you Dad's never-ending lecture over here for Grandma's forthright reality check over there and raise you fifty bucks into the bargain. Grandma says her piece all right but at least once she's said it, it's over.  
  
Not Dad. This will go on and on and on.  
  
Here he goes again.  
  
No Dad I had nothing to do with what Gordon did just now.  
  
I know it wouldn't surprise you if I did.  
  
Yes Dad it does seem like a co-incidence that you were on your way up to my room and the kitchen caught on fire.  
  
I know it doesn't surprise you that I'd think it was funny.   
  
No Dad, Gordon wasn't covering for me. He doesn't know Tin-Tin and me are an item either. I haven't told anybody, not even him.  
  
I know you don't know where on earth you got me from.  
  
I know you wish I was more responsible like my other brothers.  
  
I know.  
  
I know.  
  
I know.  
  
You mean I can go now?  
  
I flash my Tracy smile in relief. The smile doesn't work again.  
  
Yes Sir, I know you'll be watching me.  
  
No Sir, I won't disappear again.  
  
Yes Sir, I will apologise to Grandma.  
  
No Sir, I know I'd better not leave it too long.  
  
He finally turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room to talk to Scott. After a few minutes of deep and meaningful with Scott the two of them turn to look at me and shake their heads.  
  
Obviously I'm going being watched by "both" my Fathers now.   
  
I sigh in frustration as I walk towards the bar to get myself a drink, not brave enough to even look sideways let alone acknowledge Tin-Tin.  
  
Life is normal again in the Tracy household.  
  
The wild child is home and as usual the wild child is in trouble.  
  
The wild child is what my Father calls me.   
  
I've been in trouble since I was a baby.  
  
And no matter where I go or what I do, nothing around here ever changes.  
  
THE WILD FATHER  
  
I suppose you have already guessed I have a rather big communication problem with my Father and he has one hell of a big problem with me. We've had a problem with each other for as long as I can remember and it hasn't shown any signs of improving despite the fact I'm now twenty-one years old and a man in my own right.   
  
To him I am still a baby ...immature, argumentative, irresponsible and wild.   
  
To me he is still an overbearing single parent ...strict, bossy, intolerant and judgemental.   
  
To Grandma, both of us are a right royal pain in the neck and our constant altercations and clashes of personality have worn thin with her over the years. She can't stand our arguments and always has plenty to say about them when they start.  
  
Don't get me wrong, I love Dad without reservation and despite what he says and how much he growls that he doesn't know where he got me from, I know he loves me too.  
  
Dad raised me from birth with the help of my Grandma and it must have been hard to juggle his multi-billion dollar business and see to me and my brothers all at the one time. It takes a special kind of man to be both a Father and a Mother to a kid and deep down inside I know my Father has tried hard to be one of those men. Grandma says I don't know the half of how hard it was for Dad in the old days and I guess she's right. I don't know the half of it. I don't even know a quarter of it and the reason I don't know is because Dad doesn't talk about it and neither does anybody else.   
  
The subject of the old days is absolute and total taboo in this house and no-one, not even Grandma challenges Dad's rigid stance that the past is the past and it's not to be dredged up, dwelled upon or discussed in his presence.  
  
Nevertheless I've managed to put together my own picture of what the "old days" were like. Most of my "picture" is gleaned from things my Father has said and comments my brothers have made when feeling aggravated at something I've said or done. I seem to aggravate everybody in this house into saying things they regret, even if I don't intend to do so. Grandma says it's my explosive nature and bad temper that upsets "the apple cart". Grandma is always berating me and warning me to keep myself under control.  
  
"If you don't learn to mind that temper of yours young man, not only will you be a carbon copy of your Grandfather, you'll end up lying in an early grave like him too." she flashes at me on an almost daily basis. "Erupting like a volcano every second minute of your waking hours is no way to live a long and healthy life Alan Tracy."   
  
Grandma maintains I am a replica of Grandpa and that's the reason why Dad and I don't get on terribly well. For the life of me I look carefully at Grandpa's photograph in the lounge and I've yet to see the resemblance between us but Grandma says it's there all right and you only have to listen to Dad and me arguing to recognise it.  
  
Grandpa had steely, dangerous dark blue eyes, a wealth of dark wiry looking hair, a tall, lean body and massive shoulders. He was also very weathered and sun-tanned no doubt from hours toiling out in the wheat fields of Kansas day after day, week after week, year after year. I look nothing like that and it all finally got the better of me and I had to point it out to Grandma.  
  
"I don't mean a physical resemblance son." she replied. "Like that Grandfather of yours, you're not happy unless you're arguing the point with your Daddy over the smallest possible details. Grandpa only did it because he liked the sound of his own voice and you're exactly the same."  
  
She held up her hand as I reddened and went to protest. "And before you open that big mouth of yours to say anything … don't. It only serves to strengthen my case. "  
  
She looked at me with a wry smile and as with everything to do with Grandma; I could only stand corrected and smile back.  
  
Well at least I'm not like Grandpa there. He never smiled. There is not one picture I've seen of my Grandpa where he looks happy with his lot in life. Grandma says I'm wrong about that too. Yes Grandpa was strict and direct, she said, but he was also a wonderful man with a love of life and a love of his family. He really found farming life a strain and his stern countenance was simply a thinly veiled attempt to disguise how much he hated the fact it was hard to make ends meet when the seasons were poor or the prices were down.  
  
"That's why we only had your Daddy." Grandma said. "I'll grant you that Grandpa was a thinking man when it came to world populations but the real truth of it Alan is he was also struggling with a farm which was costing him more to run than he was making. One extra mouth was more than enough to cope with and once we had your Daddy to carry on the Tracy name, Grandpa saw to himself to make sure we didn't have any more mouths to feed in that farmhouse."  
  
"Saw to himself."  
  
Dad's favourite line when I was in my teens.  
  
"I don't know why I didn't see to myself when I was supposed to." he used to yell at me in frustration. "If I did I wouldn't be putting up with this at the moment that's for sure."  
  
Yeah it didn't take much to work out what Dad meant even if he only said it in the heat of the moment.  
  
He and Mom had three babies they wanted; Scott, Virgil and Johnny; the three eldest who can do no wrong in Dad's eyes.   
  
Gordon on the other hand was a bit of an accident. Gordon told me Grandma let it slip a few years back that he wasn't on the original agenda as far as the production of the Tracy babies was concerned. Mom and Dad were supposed to call it quits after John but it didn't quite work out that way. Nevertheless Grandma said Dad was delighted when Gordon was born and having Tracy baby number four didn't present too much of a problem to the success of their business plans.  
  
But not so Tracy baby number five, conceived just four months later.  
  
I was an ill-timed, unexpected and unwelcome mistake.   
  
An expensive mistake which cost Dad his wife, brought his business to its knees and forced him to sell his childhood home all within nine months of him making it.  
  
You see, despite my wildness and despite my youth I know everything about the upset and impending financial ruin my conception heaped on my Mom and Dad. I've tidied Dad's study as a punishment far too many times not to see the financial records of Tracy Enterprises during the years before and after I was born. Those records, painstakingly tucked in the bottom of a white cardboard box under Dad's desk don't lie.  
  
Thirty million dollars invested eight months before I was born. I guess Dad didn't know Mom was pregnant when he took that risk. Thirty million dollars frozen seven months before I was born. I gather that was the point when she told him. Bank statements of a highly successful company showing it sliding rapidly into loss because all of its working capital couldn't be touched. A steady record of letters from banks, demands from creditors, hand written budgets, down to the cost of diapers and formula for Gordon, the cost of Mom's hospitalisation in her seventh and eighth months, trying to find the money for a housekeeper ...Dad's struggle to survive in business and provide for his family is there for anyone to see. And what's worse is Dad doesn't realise in amongst all those pieces of paper is a letter he started to write to my mother. The letter says it all.  
  
And I opened it a few years back thinking it was a business letter.  
  
I'd rather not tell you what was in that letter because despite the words and lines that he crossed out ultimately it was about me.   
  
The gist of it I'm afraid is that Dad didn't want another baby and by the way that letter read he had blown his stack and blamed Mom for the fact that he ended up getting one. By the number of times he apologised in the space of twenty lines he must have said a lot of things he wished he hadn't when she told him. I've often wondered where Dad got his obsession for insisting me and my brothers protect ourselves around women and I guess that's where it all began.  
  
Anyway as if the reality of that letter wasn't enough, it was followed by the pain of finding the account for mom's funeral further down in the box. Mom was buried on March 18, six days after I was born. It appeared to have been a very simple funeral from the account. Nothing elaborate. No extras. I guessed Dad couldn't afford them because the receipt shows the account was paid for by Grandma. A later transaction in the box showed Dad paid her back after he sold Grandpa's farm. Copies of the Title deeds to the farm are in the box too.  
  
Like the letter he started to write to my Mother, the Title deeds are smudged in places as if something had been spilled on them.  
  
I didn't need to guess what that something was.   
  
I guess my Dad was hurting real bad back then.  
  
WILD ARRIVAL  
  
A five year old boy with his big blue eyes open wide sat enthralled by the vision of a man who once was the favourite son of America.   
  
"Alan Shepard was one of the seven mercury astronauts. He was a pioneer in space who rode a Redstone rocket bigger than your Daddy's all the way to the moon. He even hit golf balls about when he was up there. Can you imagine someone doing that then?"  
  
The silence was followed by an incredulous shake of the head, a tousling of my hair and a captivated smile from me in return.   
  
"Alan Shepard was the man who inspired Daddy to become an Astronaut all those years ago Alan. He was a legend in his own right and a very famous American."  
  
Such were the words of my Grandmother as I sat on her lap in front of the fire on a cold and rainy March night in Boston waiting patiently for my Father to come home. Beside us, curled up on the couch wearing his pyjamas and slippers was Gordon. He had fallen asleep almost an hour ago after begging Grandma not to send him to bed. Dad had been away on business for the past six days. Even though we loved Grandma we had both missed him very much and wanted to be awake when he came home from New York.  
  
Grandma had lit the fire earlier in the evening to give herself something else to do besides feel uneasy. She had expected Dad well and truly before supper and it was now past ten o'clock and he still wasn't home. He hadn't called to say he'd be late either.   
  
Grandma hides how she feels very well, especially when she's worried about something. Outwardly she was acting like her usual self, telling stories and inspiring imagination. As I sat with my blonde head resting against her she wrapped her loving arms around me and adjusted the blanket she'd placed over me to keep me warm. Little did I know that inwardly she was churning up with worry. I had no idea of the inner dread she was feeling as she told me about Astronaut Colonel Alan Shepard, the man after whom I was named.  
  
"Daddy must have loved you very much to name you after someone so important to him mustn't he?" she continued as she smoothed my curly hair back into place.  
  
"Yes ma'am." I replied happily, suddenly feeling very important at having such an honour bestowed on me. At five years old and with four older brothers it didn't take much to make me feel that way. Naturally she never added that Dad had named all of my brothers after one of the mercury astronauts but it wouldn't have mattered to me if she did. According to Grandma, Alan Shepard was the Astronaut Dad admired the most and I was most important to him.  
  
"Daddy liked Alan Shepard's forthright manner and the way he took control of a situation." she continued. "He must be expecting you'll be like that too when you grow up."  
  
I smiled at her again. "I will be like that ma'am." I said enthusiastically.  
  
She smiled herself and kissed the top of my head.   
  
"Oh course you will my little man." she said lovingly. "If you're anything like your Daddy you most certainly will."  
  
However despite Grandma's wonderful stories which never ceased to stir up my imagination and the warmth and security of her arms I wanted only one thing right now.  
  
The strong arms of my Father.  
  
"Grandma." I began looking up at her with tired eyes. "Will Daddy be home soon?"  
  
I was too young to recognise the worry on her face or realise I'd asked her the same question every fifteen minutes for the past four hours.  
  
"Yes Alan. Daddy will be home soon." she assured me patiently as she kissed the top of my head again. "He has to come home soon." she added. "Someone special I know is having a birthday tomorrow and Daddy wouldn't miss that for anything."  
  
The very mention of the word "birthday" instantly took away my tiredness and made me stop thinking about Dad. I loved birthdays and only three weeks ago we had celebrated Gordon's seventh birthday. The fun we'd had at his party was still very fresh in my mind and as a result I was looking forward to my own birthday party immensely.  
  
"I'll be six hey Grandma?" I said holding up all the digits on one hand and then one finger on the other. "I'll have to use two hands tomorrow."  
  
Grandma glanced at the clock and then at me. "Yes sweetie. You sure will." she smiled. "Time's gone by so fast around here. It only seems like yesterday that you were a little newborn baby in my arms."  
  
Her smile faded and her grip on me tightened.  
  
After a short silence she added in a sad and distant voice. "Tiny and bruised and crying for your momma."  
  
She seemed to go into a world of her own then before she sighed and said.  
  
"Six years and he's still working himself into the ground so he doesn't have to face it."  
  
I looked at Grandma.  
  
"Face what?" I asked her curiously.  
  
She started at my question, not realising I was listening. She quickly gave me an unconvincing smile.  
  
"Nothing sweetie." she said nervously. "Grandma's just rambling on to herself again."  
  
She glanced at the clock again.  
  
"My goodness look how late it is." she commented carefully looking first at me and then at the lump under the blanket that was Gordon. "Come on now. I know you want to see your Daddy but I think it's about time you and your brother were tucked up tight in bed."  
  
I shook my head obstinately. I wanted my Father and I was prepared to wait up all night if I had to just to see him walk through that door. He was my hero and nothing made me happier than to know he was home and in his room down the hall. He spent so much time away.  
  
When he was home and didn't have telephone calls to make or paperwork to do after supper, he would always make the time to pick me up in his arms, throw me backwards over his head and up onto his shoulders. He then proceeded to carry me into bed before returning to do the same thing to Gordon.   
  
Admittedly those nights were rare because he always had telephone calls to make or paperwork to do but Gordon and me looked forward to them all the same. Both of us had hoped it might happen tonight after him being away for so long but by the look of things it was going to be Grandma putting us to bed again.   
  
When Dad put us to bed, it wasn't like when Grandma did it. Grandma was a perfectionist. She nagged us to brush our teeth, inspected them carefully, sent us to the bathroom, made us say our prayers, kissed us both and tucked us up tight in bed. She would then turn out the light so we wouldn't be distracted and scurry away to attend to some other disaster that was happening or do the household chores.   
  
Not Dad. He'd ask if we'd both brushed our teeth, warn us not to wet the bed and ruffle our hair. Ruffling our hair was his way of saying he loved us. He would then turn on the night light and sit on the end of one of our beds reading a contract until we both went to sleep. He considered that as spending time with us. But each and every time he did I noticed he would glance up at me at least once and a look of dreadful sadness would come over his face. Sometimes he would just stare at me, his sightless eyes somewhere distant. Once I even thought I saw a tear run down one of his cheeks as I began to close my eyes. I knew that couldn't be right. My Father was big and brave and strong. He told Gordon and me many times "Tracy men know how to handle themselves. They get on with things and they definitely don't cry about anything."   
  
Dad lived that advice every single day himself and expected us to do it too. All of us tried to live up to his expectations but it was kind of hard sometimes when you were only five years old and you really hurt yourself and needed to cry.   
  
The minutes ticked by and not even thoughts of a party could stop my eyelids from drooping now. It was nearly eleven o'clock.   
  
Grandma was clearly becoming alarmed. I saw her glance in the direction of the telephone.  
  
"You still up Grandma?" came a half broken voice from behind us.   
  
It was fourteen-year old Scott on his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and came to stand beside the fire. His dark blue eyes immediately looked directly at Grandma's.  
  
"Isn't Dad home yet?" he asked.   
  
Grandma shook her head and tried to sound calm. "No sweetie ... it looks like he's been delayed tonight."  
  
Scott eyes shifted uncomfortably from Grandma to the fire and back to Grandma. Little did I know my big brother possessed a real and deep-seated fear of our Dad dying on him and leaving him completely alone.   
  
"Has Dad called you ma'am?" he asked bending down to stoke up the coals.  
  
"Err... no he hasn't yet Scott ..." Grandma replied.  
  
"Grandma … Dad always calls." he pointed out anxiously.  
  
"Well ... maybe he just lost track of the time." Grandma offered trying to sound up-beat. "Don't worry sweetie. I'm sure he's all right."  
  
Scott shook his head.   
  
"No ma'am, Dad never loses track of anything. If he's going to be late, he calls." he said emphatically and with an apprehensive tone in his voice. "Can I …"  
  
"No Scott." she interrupted firmly as if reading his mind. "I don't want you calling his cell phone. Let things be. This is a difficult time of year for your Father and you and I both know he needs to be left alone."  
  
I couldn't help but notice Scott glanced at me as she said that.   
  
"Yes ma'am." he replied carefully. "I understand."  
  
There was a worried silence and in the silence and lulled by the rain on the roof I found myself snuggling closer to Grandma and closing my eyes. Scott and Grandma continued to converse but their voices became nothing but inaudible mumblings as I nodded off into slumber. Every now and then though I was drawn back into consciousness at the mention of my name.  
  
"No Alan's far too young to understand yet." I heard Grandma say. "Your Father will tell him what happened to your mother when the time is right."   
  
Despite me falling deeper and deeper into slumber I sensed Scott beside me as he bent his tall, gangly frame to kiss Grandma goodnight.  
  
"Your Daddy will be OK Scott." I heard Grandma reassure him again. "Don't you be worrying about him .You go upstairs and get your rest."  
  
"If you say so ma'am. Good night then." I heard Scott say dubiously from what seemed a very long way off.  
  
There was silence again and nothing but the sweet humming of Grandma's lullaby filled the room. I never heard Dad's car pull into the drive but my eyes half-opened when the front door opened.  
  
"Daddy?" I called in a small, sleepy voice but I was too far gone to wake properly.   
  
"Yes Alan. Daddy's home. "Grandma soothed rocking me in her arms. "Go back to sleep now sweetheart."   
  
The clock showed nearly midnight as my Father walked wearily through the door carrying fifty red roses in his hand.   
  
My eyes fluttered open only long enough to see him put down the roses and his brief case, take off his wet jacket and come to stand beside the fire.  
  
His very presence in the room was normally enough to waken a five year old who worshipped him and in a way it sort of did … but my eyes … my eyes were too heavy to stay open and look at him. All I heard were bits and pieces of his conversation with Grandma.  
  
"You're late son."   
  
"I know."  
  
"You should have called me."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry momma."   
  
"I've been worried sick about you."  
  
"I'm OK."  
  
"I didn't even know if you'd made it back from New York in one piece."   
  
"I flew in a few hours back."  
  
"So where have you been until now?"   
  
"Driving around Boston."  
  
"Doing what may I ask?"  
  
"Thinking about things."  
  
"Things? What things?"  
  
"My life."  
  
"Your life? What sort of crazy answer is that?"  
  
"A truthful one ma'am."  
  
"You should have been here with your babies where you belong Jeff. Lord knows you're away from them far too much as it is."   
  
"I know I am."  
  
"These two little ones have been waiting up for you all night."  
  
"I can see that ma'am."  
  
"Your eldest one has been up worrying about you too."  
  
"I'm sorry. I'll look in on him on my way up to bed."  
  
"I don't want you to go to bed yet Jeff. We need to talk."  
  
"No Mom. Not tonight."  
  
"Jeff I said we need to talk."  
  
"Excuse me mom. I said I don't want to talk. "  
  
"Jeff stop avoiding the subject."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Jeff ... you are and I'm telling you that you can't go on like this. You're getting worse instead of better."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine."  
  
"Son … listen to me … you're not fine."  
  
"Stop giving me hassle mother. There's nothing wrong with me."  
  
"Jeff …"  
  
"Look I just hate the twelfth of March that's all and this is the way I need to deal with it."  
  
"Driving around in the middle of the night unable to come home to your children is no way to deal with anything Jeff."  
  
"Driving around in the middle of the night at least helps me cope."  
  
"Cope? You've got to be kidding me. Son it's nearly midnight. You look like hell. You're tired and hungry and soaked to the skin. Don't tell me you're coping with anything."  
  
"Mom I am."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I'm here now aren't I?"  
  
"All right so you're here now. Is that supposed to make me worry less about you? You might be home but what kind emotional mess are you in at the moment after all this driving around and thinking about life?"  
  
"I told you I'm fine."  
  
"Is that so? Well if you are you won't have any problem looking me in the face and telling me you're dealing with the fact that it's been six years since you lost that little girl of yours."  
  
"Mom I don't want to talk about Lucy."  
  
"Well you're not fine then are you? You never talk about her or your feelings. Not to me… not to your boys... not to anyone."  
  
"Lucy's dead. How I feel about that is private. There's nothing to talk about."  
  
"Jeff please…"  
  
Dad's voice took on a whole new tone. He started to sound angry at Grandma.  
  
"What exactly do you want me to say to you momma? That I miss Lucy? That I can't face my children without thinking about her? That I work myself into the ground twenty hours a day trying to forget her? Is me saying all that to you gonna make you feel any better?"   
  
Grandma started to sound angry at him.  
  
"Jeff don't speak to me like that. That's not what I meant."  
  
Grandma's tone seemed to settle him down. I heard him heave a huge sigh.  
  
"Mom, tonight I made myself think long and hard about things for the first time since Lucy died. I thought about how much I'm away and how little time I have for my boys. They used to be the centre of my life when Lucy was alive. Now look at me. For God's sake I only realised an hour ago I hadn't gotten little Alan anything for his birthday and even then it wasn't until after I'd driven a hundred damned miles to find some decent flowers to put on Lucy's grave."  
  
There was silence.  
  
"Not that the stupid flowers matter anyway. She sure as hell isn't gonna notice them is she?"  
  
More silence.  
  
"What's the point of all this Mom? My children don't see me. They don't even know who I am anymore. I'm just someone who comes home every now and then barking instructions to keep them on the right track. I hardly even sleep in the same house at the moment. I'm committed to two months in Asia in the Fall and I won't get to see any of them for all that time. So you tell me… what's the difference to them if I'm in their life or out of it?"  
  
"There's every difference Jeff. Those little boys adore you. Don't you dare start saying stupid things like that."  
  
A sob of suppressed emotion pushed through my Father's lips.  
  
"Don't look at me like that mother. I'm not going off the edge again if that's what you're thinking."  
  
"I'm not thinking anything Jeff."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Just give me some space Mom. I'll be OK about things in a couple of days."  
  
"I've always given you space Jeff. You're the one not giving yourself the space. Surely I shouldn't have to remind you that your children need you."  
  
"I know they need me Mom."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I'm just feeling sorry for myself I suppose."  
  
"Well that's all well and good but don't you think after six years of it it's time you let go of Lucy so you can move on in your life?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Sweetheart I know how much you loved her but what the two of you had is over now. Move forward for your own sake. You need to stop grieving and start living again. "  
  
The voice of anguish…   
  
"I've tried moving forward but I just can't do it. Every time I try, all I can think of is what Lucy went through for me in that delivery room."  
  
Silence.   
  
.  
  
A whisper…   
  
"I'll never be able to forget that. "  
  
Silence.  
  
"Momma, I'm just so lonely without her."   
  
Then the words I will remember forever.  
  
"Why couldn't I have just died with her?"  
  
A little five year old boy named after Alan Shepard kept his blue eyes tightly closed and pretended to be asleep when those dreadful words were uttered.  
  
The same little five year boy named after Alan Shepard lay motionless as his Daddy carried him into bed and turned off the light.  
  
A little five year boy was about to turn six years of age.  
  
It was going to be the birthday he would never forget.   
  
WILD NOTIONS  
  
Now I guess it sounds like my Father was one hell of a mixed up man back then. I don't know that for sure but things certainly pointed in that direction. I suppose it was a dreadful life for a man who had only just turned forty.   
  
No wife.  
  
Five young kids and a business to run.  
  
No social life.  
  
No love life.  
  
Just work and more work every single day of the year.  
  
Every day that is, except for the twelfth of March. Dad never worked on the twelfth of March no matter what.  
  
Birthdays were the one day of the year when each of us got to feel important in a household full of children clamouring for their Father's attention. On your birthday you counted. On your birthday Dad paid you special attention.  
  
It was like that for all of my brothers but it was never like that for me. I was special to Dad on my birthday all right but it was for all the wrong reasons. My birthday was always indelibly scarred with guilt and sadness as Dad recollected my dramatic entry into the world and the devastation he felt as his perfect world crashed around him and my mother died in his arms.   
  
And this birthday was to be no exception…  
  
The morning of my sixth birthday dawned and like the night before it, it was cold, wet and windy. As a result of our late night waiting up for Dad, neither Gordon nor I stirred when the rest of the household woke up and it was well after nine when our bedroom door was opened and I was gently shaken awake. I opened my eyes in the semi-darkened room, made worse by the miserable weather, to see the formidable figure of my "other Dad" looming over me.  
  
I guess I should explain about my "other Dad" before I go on any further. My other Dad is my eldest brother Scott. In a lot of ways he's been more like a Father to me than Dad has over the years. Scott taught me how to play ball, helped me with my homework, gave me advice and discreetly removed me from Grandma's sight whenever he knew she'd reached the end of her tether with me. He's eight years and eleven months older than me but I respect him almost as much as I respect my Dad.  
  
The trouble is, the older he's getting, the more like Dad he's becoming. I don't just mean in looks either. You should see him when Dad leaves him in charge of the base. He literally becomes Dad overnight and you know what I think about Dad sometimes. You guessed it; strict, bossy, intolerant and judgemental. I guess Scott's not judgemental like Dad is but he sure as hell is bossy.  
  
And bossy he was on the morning of my birthday as he stood by my bed urging me to get up.   
  
"Hey Alan; its morning." he said quietly giving me another shake.  
  
He sat down on the bed beside me as I blinked and focussed my eyes. Scott knew what I was like in the mornings and always took things very carefully until he knew I was fully awake. I'm not a morning person and I wasn't even back then, a fact that everyone in the Tracy household knows from experience. Even Tin-Tin tells me straight out I'm nothing but a grouch until I have my morning coffee and of course Grandma gets in on the act and says for the umpteenth time that I'm just like Grandpa. He was a grouch in the mornings too.  
  
Anyway all similarities to Grandpa aside, once Scott thought I was awake he smiled and said.  
  
"Happy birthday baby brother."   
  
With that he leaned over and wrapped his arms around me, which immediately caused me to screw up my face in protest and squirm about uncomfortably.  
  
"Don't Scott! I'm not a baby!" I objected. "I'm six now."  
  
Scott released me and simply looked sad.  
  
"I know." he said.  
  
Normally if you challenged Scott he'd tell you to go blow it out of your ass and ignore you until you apologised, but even Scott wasn't acting like himself this morning.  
  
He stood back up and pulled back my bedcovers.  
  
"Come on. Up you get." he said trying to sound cheerful and then walked to the bed on the other side of the room. Tufts of ginger hair poking out from underneath the covers indicated Gordon was still asleep too. He reefed Gordon's covers back in one massive sweep.  
  
"You too squirt." he added. "Come on, on the double."  
  
Gordon instantly started complaining.  
  
"I'm tired Scott!" he moaned, screwing himself up into a ball and starting to shiver.   
  
"Well you should go to bed when you're supposed to Gordie." he said in a firm voice as he opened our closet. "If you did you wouldn't be tired would you?"  
  
"I was waiting up to see Daddy." Gordon said defensively.  
  
"You didn't wait up for very long." Scott replied dryly. "You were asleep on the couch when I saw you."  
  
He began to pull our good clothes out of the closet and place them on the dresser.  
  
"Alan where are your school shoes?" he asked, rooting around vainly in the bottom of the closet and finding everything but what he was looking for, including an apple core he didn't appreciate.  
  
"My shoes are where they always are." I replied without moving.  
  
Scott sighed. "And where's that?"  
  
"Under my bed." I said. "Why?"  
  
"Because you need to put them on now that's why."  
  
"It's not a school day." I whined. "I don't wanna wear 'em."   
  
"You'll wear 'em if I tell you to Alan." he threatened. "Don't argue."  
  
Scott bossing me around finally got the better of Gordon.  
  
"Why's he gotta wear 'em?" he challenged.  
  
"Because I said he does and so do you." Scott flashed.   
  
Scott's look of complete aggravation stopped both of us arguing immediately. Neither of us were brave enough to confront Scott when he meant business.  
  
"Look, Dad told me to make sure you little guys look respectable this morning. So do me a favour and put your good clothes on huh? I don't want to get myself into trouble today. "  
  
The two of us stood up obediently and started to take off our pyjamas as Scott successfully located my shoes.  
  
"Where's yours Gordie? "he asked looking about.  
  
"I dunno." Gordon shrugged. "Somewhere."  
  
"How do you guys find anything in here?" Scott asked in frustration as he pulled out the myriad of socks, toys and books from underneath Gordon's bed.  
  
"Easy!" Gordon exclaimed.  
  
Scott rolled his eyes at him. "Well if it's so easy YOU find your shoes then."  
  
He came back over to me as Gordon disappeared under his covers for a few minutes and rummaged around before emerging triumphantly with his shoes.  
  
"See? "he said. "Here they are!"  
  
"Just hurry up and put 'em on." Scott directed. "Here Alan, I'll button that for you."  
  
"I can do it!" I stressed as I struggled with the top button on my good shirt.  
  
"Yeah well, I can do it faster." Scott said as he fastened it securely and then quickly moved down the shirt doing up the rest.  
  
"Why are we putting on our good clothes anyway?" Gordon asked. "Daddy doesn't let us wear 'em if we haven't eaten our breakfast."  
  
Trust Gordon to be awake less than five minutes and already thinking about his stomach. Scott didn't answer him. He kept looking towards the door with a worried look on his face.  
  
"Where's your raincoats?" he demanded. "You're gonna need 'em."  
  
"Why?" I began, ready to argue yet again.   
  
"The rain's real heavy outside that's why. Can't you hear it?"  
  
I looked out the window at the pouring rain which seemed to settling in for the day.  
  
"I don't got a raincoat." I replied. "I lost it."  
  
"I don't HAVE a raincoat." Scott corrected.  
  
"Yes you do." I argued. "It's hanging in the hall next to Daddy's."  
  
"Alan, don't be a smart ass." Scott snapped again.   
  
"Hey!" I retorted. "You're supposed to be nice to me today. It's my birthday."  
  
Scott shook his head and began to comb my hair.  
  
"I AM being nice to you Alan but if you don't hurry yourself up and find your raincoat Dad won't be."  
  
I sat on my bed pulling on my socks and looking up excitedly at my big brother.  
  
"Is Daddy takin' us out for my birthday?" I asked with interest.  
  
"Daddy didn't take ME out." Gordon pouted trying to jam his foot into his shoe without untying the laces. "That's not fair."  
  
"Gordie that's no way to put on your shoes." Scott berated him before looking at me. "… and no Alan, Dad's not taking you out for your birthday."  
  
"Well what are we wearing our good clothes for?" I asked.  
  
Suddenly the voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs. It was Dad. Scott startled and looked anxiously over his shoulder.  
  
"We're almost done up here Sir." he called back. "We'll only be another few minutes."  
  
The voice snapped back that he didn't have all day.  
  
"Daddy sounds mad." I observed, automatically picking up the pace I was putting on my shoes.   
  
"Dad's not mad. ' Scott replied bending down to tie up my laces. He's always like this today."  
  
"Like what?" I enquired.  
  
"Like nothin'. Just hurry up will you. Dad wants to leave."  
  
I fixed my blue eyes on my big brother. I noticed he was wearing his best clothes too right from his immaculately pressed shirt to his carefully polished black shoes.  
  
I was starting to get more worried by the minute. Dad was sounding like a bear with a sore head and Scott was acting really strange.  
  
"Where're we going Scott?" I asked.   
  
I truly believe if Scott could have wished for anything at that particular moment he would have wished that someone other than him was expected to explain what was going on or rather was about to go on.   
  
"You're coming with us to the cemetery this year." he said uncomfortably. "…to see Mom."  
  
Now remember at this point Gordon and myself had never been to a cemetery before and had only found out the summer before that we even used to have a mother. The two of us looked at each other and our eyes grew wide with excitement.   
  
"Wow!" exclaimed Gordon a huge grin stealing over his face. "That'll be awesome."  
  
By the look on Scott's face I wasn't so sure awesome was the word he was expecting. He bit his lip and looked at the two of us.  
  
"Hey little guys ... this isn't supposed to be fun OK? Going to Mom's grave is serious."  
  
The very tone in his voice should have been enough to give us the warning. The tone in Dad's voice was enough to sound the alarm bells.  
  
"Scott!" he bellowed. "NOW!"  
  
The three of us scurried down the stairs in response to his military voice of command. Dad stood near the doorway with his expensive trench coat over his arm, dressed like he was going to meet the President. Beside him stood Virgil carrying the beautiful flowers Dad had brought in the night before.  
  
"About time." he muttered in annoyance as we walked into the foyer and said good morning to our Father.   
  
Dad frowned and looked in the direction of the dining room.   
  
"John!" he barked. "In here on the double."  
  
There was no answer. All we could hear was Grandma.  
  
"Sweetie stop all this nonsense now. You won't be there very long."  
  
And John.  
  
"I don't wanna go to that awful place again Grandma. I hate seeing where Mommy is."  
  
"Darling, even your little brothers are going with Daddy this year. Come on …please … for Grandma."  
  
I looked in the direction of the dining room too and then back to look at Dad. Dad's face told me he wasn't in the mood for nonsense from any of us.  
  
"JOHN! MOVE IT!" he called again.  
  
With still no sign of John Dad's displeasure was growing fast.   
  
He opened the front door and handed Scott the keys to the car.   
  
"Go and organise the rest of your brothers for me please." he said.   
  
Scott's eyes flickered nervously. "Please Dad ... I'll get Johnny to come for you."  
  
"You don't have to. Johnny's right here." came the flat voice of Grandma as she led John firmly by the arm in the direction of the door. John looked at Dad with tear filled eyes.  
  
"Go and get in the car with your brothers John." Dad directed a little less severely and with a pat on John's back.  
  
John reluctantly came out to join us on the porch as Scott donned his raincoat and ran to open the car. The rain was really heavy now.  
  
"Jeff." Grandma suggested delicately. "Why don't you go a little later dear? The children will catch their death out there in all this rain."  
  
"The children have coats. They'll be fine." he replied grimly.   
  
I went to open my mouth and tell Dad I didn't have a coat but I knew if I did I'd get a dressing down for not looking after my things. I stupidly said nothing, not even when Grandma called me back as everyone else dashed for the car.  
  
"Happy birthday little one." she whispered and hugged me. "When Daddy brings you back later on, Grandma's got some really nice surprises for you all right?"  
  
I nodded with excitement. With all the rush to get ready to go I'd forgotten all about my birthday.  
  
"Thank you Grandma." I replied happily.  
  
Suddenly Dad blasted the horn.  
  
"Well you'd better hurry along then." she said. "Quickly now. Daddy's waiting."  
  
I ran down the drive towards the car and before long the six of us were headed out of Boston to a picturesque place thirty miles to the south; the cemetery where my Mother had been buried.  
  
Looking back I don't know what the worst part of that first experience was for me. All of it was pretty horrendous. We drove the thirty miles in total silence. We had to get gas for the car and Dad forgot his credit card. We arrived at the cemetery to find the gates were shut. The caretaker didn't want to come out in the rain and open the gate. Johnny wouldn't get out of the car and a major altercation with Dad followed.   
  
Then Virgil dropped Mom's flowers.   
  
The look on Virgil's face was heartbreaking as Dad looked at the beautiful roses now lying in the mud and then at Virgil.  
  
"I'm really sorry Dad." he apologised as the tears welled in his eyes. "They slipped out of my hand Sir."  
  
Dad bent down and silently picked up the flowers. He walked over to a tap nearby. Turning on the water he proceeded to rinse them until every trace of mud was gone. Some of the petals fell off. He shook his head at Virgil who cringed to almost half his height. I saw Scott put a steadying arm around him.   
  
We then walked beside him to Mom's grave which was on the top of a grassy hill overlooking the river. The river was grey and swollen and had a kind of low-lying mist hanging over it. It was the most miserable, quiet and horrible place I had ever been to.  
  
The experience of watching Dad crouch down and lay the flowers there and then lower his head in devastation was dreadful. Luckily I thought the tears that poured down his face were simply droplets of incessant rain. Worse still was watching Scott look everywhere but at Dad, Virgil crying with his head down about dropping the flowers and Johnny sobbing at having to be there in the first place. Gordon and I stood next to each other holding each other's hands, looking at our Mother's headstone and not knowing what else to do.   
  
"There's my name." Gordon whispered in awe. "And there's yours."  
  
And then the worst thing of all happened. The heavens opened and enough rain to float the ark poured down on the graveyard. Dad looked around at the five of us and much to my horror realised I wasn't wearing my raincoat.  
  
"Alan!" he barked so loudly I nearly jumped out of my skin with fright. "Where the hell is your coat?"   
  
"Umm..." I began nervously as the rain soaked me from head to toe. "I lost it Daddy."  
  
"What in the blazes do you mean you lost it?" he yelled.  
  
I fixed my frightened blue eyes on my Father.   
  
"I just did Daddy." I trembled squeezing Gordon's hand harder. "I didn't mean to."   
  
"For God's sake can't you boys take care of anything?" he shouted as he reefed off his coat exposing his expensive suit to the elements.  
  
"Here." he barked thrusting the coat in my direction. "Put this on before you completely drown. "  
  
I took the coat from Dad and Scott came forward and helped me into it. The brand new coat draped on the ground. The rain poured down harder and before thirty seconds had elapsed, Dad was completely saturated. His hair hung limply; water dripped off his chin and his clothes literally stuck to his body.  
  
However despite everything he stood there dogmatically for nearly an hour and forced himself and us to pay proper respects to our Mother.   
  
Afterwards we drove the thirty miles home and everyone in the car sat in silence again. We all knew Dad was unhappy about Virgil dropping the flowers, furious about me losing my raincoat, and madder still at having his good suit ruined and the bottom of his brand new coat caked in mud.  
  
I still remember Grandma's face as Dad walked through the front door completely soaked to the skin and wearing a face of thunder.  
  
"Oh dear!" she exclaimed looking him up and down. "What in the hell happened to you?"  
  
Dad flung his muddied coat down on the chair in the entry hall, shook his head and kept walking.  
  
"I'll be in the shower momma." he snapped. "Pour me a double scotch will you and for God's sake keep that blasted kid the hell out of my sight until I cool down."  
  
"I'll need to take that suit to the cleaners." Grandma called after him but all she got for her trouble was a slamming of his bedroom door.   
  
She sighed and immediately turned to Scott.  
  
"All right which one of them upset your Father this time?" she demanded.  
  
Before Scott could answer Virgil burst into tears, closely followed by Johnny and last of all me.  
  
"It was me Grandma" Virgil blubbered. "I ruined Mom's flowers when I dropped them in the mud. I didn't mean to. They slipped out of my hands cos the plastic was wet."  
  
"It wasn't that. It's cos I wouldn't get out of the car and Daddy had to make me." John sobbed.   
  
And then me.  
  
"I done it Grandma." I sniffled fixing my blue eyes on Grandma's. "I losted my raincoat and Daddy got wet cos he had to give me his."  
  
Grandma shook her head at all of us. She looked back to Scott.  
  
"You all right son?" she asked.   
  
Scott lowered his head and said in a small quiet voice. "Yes ma'am."  
  
"Good boy." she said patting his arm softly and then sent him to the cupboard in the hall to find some dry towels. As Scott handed them out Grandma went into damage control.  
  
"Listen to Grandma Virgil." she said as she towelled his chestnut hair and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Mud can be washed off anything even flowers. Did Dad do that?"  
  
"Yes ma'am." Virgil sniffed. "But …"  
  
Grandma's hand tilted his chin to hers. "No buts son. If Dad could rinse them off you didn't ruin them. Don't you be crying about things that don't matter. It's hard enough going out there as it is. "   
  
And then she turned to John.  
  
"Come here sweetheart and let's get that wet shirt off." she said gently. John looked up at her and continued to cry as she removed the dripping wet shirt and equally wet undershirt. I still see his thin body shivering in front of her before she offered him the towel.  
  
"Daddy knows how much you miss your momma John." she soothed pulling him into her arms. "I'm sure he's not really angry with you."  
  
John nodded only half convinced and Grandma gave Scott the job of taking him upstairs to find a dry shirt and try to calm him down.   
  
Finally it was my turn.  
  
"Losing your raincoat was a pretty senseless thing to do then wasn't it?" she began as she wrapped me in the towel.   
  
I nodded my head.  
  
"Yes ma'am." I replied.  
  
"Your coat was brand new Alan." she continued. "And you know Daddy expects you to take care of your things."  
  
My head moved up and down again.   
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"Guess Daddy was pretty mad at you huh?" she grimaced.  
  
"Yes he was. Real real mad."  
  
She ran her hand through my wet curls.  
  
"Oh dear. Well I guess he's got every right to be."  
  
She gave me a tender smile and held out her hand.  
  
"Never mind. Let's get you upstairs and I'll run you a hot bath. You can stay in there while Daddy has his drink and settles down. Then we'll go and say sorry about the coat all right?"  
  
I reached forward and took her outstretched hand.   
  
"Can I have a bath too Grandma?" Gordon piped up from the doorway. Grandma's attention now focussed on my red-haired brother who for once wasn't the centre of attention. He was soaking wet too and hadn't uttered a sound.  
  
"I didn't tell Daddy that my raincoat didn't work too good." he said. "He was mad enough already."  
  
Grandma automatically extended her other hand.  
  
"Come on then sweetie." she smiled. "Not saying anything to Daddy about your coat was using very good sense young man."   
  
"That's cos I was worried." Gordon admitted as we climbed the stairs with Grandma. "Daddy sure acted funny when he got to that graveyard place."  
  
I saw Grandma open her mouth to speak but she immediately shut it again. After running water and finding dry clothes she left the two of us in the bathroom with a strong warning not to move until the coast was clear. A few minutes later we saw her pass by the bathroom again carrying a glass of scotch in her hand. Obviously she was on her way to Dad's room.   
  
"You're sure gonna get it from Daddy later." Gordon observed. "Remember when I lost my watch last month? I got it real bad."  
  
I swallowed and tried not to feel sick. I clearly remembered the blast Gordon got at the Dinner table when Dad noticed his brand new watch was missing. I also remembered Gordon crying on his bed after being punished in Dad's room for not being responsible for his things.   
  
"Don't worry Alan." he said trying to reassure me. "It doesn't hurt for long."  
  
I'm sure Gordon thought he was making me feel better about what we both knew was coming but I hated to tell him it wasn't working.   
  
The hours passed by and Dad remained in his room. Grandma frowned and watched the clock. The afternoon began to turn into evening. It was becoming obvious he didn't intend to come down.  
  
Grandma eventually gave up waiting for him and busied herself in the kitchen and the dining room. Every now and then she called Scott to help her. By suppertime she had everything ready.  
  
When we were called to the dining room my eyes lit up with delight. The room was brightly decorated with red, green and yellow balloons in bunches of six. Six long red foil streamers hung from the ceiling. A huge birthday cake frosted in red, green and yellow and baked in the shape of a clown was in the centre of the table. Six red candles were in the centre. Around it were hats and whistles. Small treats lay on plates. Six individually wrapped presents were placed on my chair.   
  
"Wow!" I exclaimed with my eyes open wide. "Thank you Grandma. Can I open the presents please?"   
  
Grandma's eyes glanced in the direction of the stairs. She heaved a long heavy sigh before she said.  
  
"I guess so little one. It looks like Daddy's …busy."  
  
"Open mine first." Gordon cried in excitement. "We can play with it then."  
  
"Settle down squirt." Scott warned him as he thrust the box into my arms. "You've already had your birthday."  
  
Gordon's face was momentarily woeful until I opened the box to reveal a new model plane.  
  
I threw my arms around my favourite brother.  
  
"Thank you Gordie." I exclaimed. "It's the best thing ever!"  
  
By and by I opened the gifts, one from each of my four brothers and one from Grandma. The sixth gift lay on the chair.  
  
It was from my Father.  
  
I looked at the box and then at Grandma.  
  
"May I go upstairs and open it with Daddy Grandma?" I asked.  
  
Grandma looked dubious and quickly suggested it would be a better idea if we had the party first. She was obviously thinking about how Dad was going to punish the loss of the raincoat.  
  
"Once you've had your cake and played some games with your brothers Grandma will take you up to Daddy." she said.   
  
That seemed to make sense and I was really looking forward to the games and blowing out the candles on my cake.   
  
Grandma placed Scott in charge of the games but they weren't much fun to start with. Virgil didn't want to play and neither did Johnny.  
  
"You gotta play!" I insisted looking up at both of them in disappointment. "I always play on your birthday."   
  
Johnny shook his head.   
  
"No." he quavered turning away. "I don't want to Alan."  
  
I hated it when John got in one of his moods. I didn't understand why.  
  
I folded my arms and frowned.  
  
"Johnny, can you please stop being such a pain and just play." Scott sighed. "You too Virg." he added in a disgruntled voice.  
  
"It's all right for you." Virgil snapped back. "You're not in trouble with Dad."   
  
"Neither are you." Scott replied. "If you were you'd be upstairs in his room by now."  
  
That appeased Virgil and he agreed to play but nothing Scott said could persuade John. He sat himself down on the couch and watched in silence.  
  
Then Grandma called us back to the table for supper and the birthday cake.  
  
After a cheery rendition of "Happy birthday to you" the birthday cake was carefully sliced and handed out. Like all of Grandma's cakes it was sweet, rich and delicious.  
  
"We'd better cut a piece for Daddy." I reminded her in between licking my fingers and taking another bite.   
  
Grandma told me she would do that later when she took his supper upstairs but somehow I got the feeling she didn't think he'd be too keen on a chocolate fudge cake thickly covered with bright red, green and yellow frosting.  
  
When the party was over Grandma got back to business in the kitchen. Before long she emerged again, this time carrying a tray with Dad's supper on it. I noted with satisfaction she had cut an extra large piece of my birthday cake for him and placed it on the tray.  
  
"Well come on then." she said looking at me. "Put those new toys of yours down for five minutes and we'll go upstairs and take Daddy his supper."  
  
I immediately remembered the unopened present and ran into the dining room to get it.  
  
"Now Alan let Grandma do all the talking." she warned as we walked down the hall towards Dad's room. "You haven't forgotten about losing your raincoat have you?"  
  
I swallowed. With all the fun I had been having at the party combined with the excitement of the presents I had forgotten. Gordon's words in the bathroom immediately sprang back into my mind.  
  
"It doesn't hurt for long."  
  
I started to wish I was anywhere else but next to Grandma.  
  
Grandma knocked on the door of Dad's room and when Dad didn't open it she asked me to open it for her.  
  
"Jeff?" she called as we walked inside. "I've brought you your supper dear."  
  
Dad was sitting in the darkness out on his balcony looking out into the miserable night. He didn't move.  
  
"No thank you mother." he said in a low, over-controlled voice. "I'm not hungry tonight."  
  
Grandma shook her head and told him she was leaving the tray on the desk anyway. She looked down at me and took my hand before leading me out onto the balcony.  
  
"I've also got a young man here who wants to tell you how mighty sorry he is about losing his brand new raincoat."   
  
"Go on then." she said motioning me forward to stand in front of my Father. "Say what you're supposed to."   
  
Dad eyed me silently and with no emotion on his face.  
  
"Daddy." I said looking at him timidly and with genuine remorse. "I'm real sorry about my raincoat. Honest."  
  
Dad didn't reply for a while but when he did it what he said came as no surprise.  
  
"Raincoats cost money Alan, just like everything else. I work hard to give you and your brothers the things you need and I expect you to take care of them."  
  
I nodded my head.  
  
"I know Daddy."  
  
"And you didn't, did you?"  
  
"No Daddy." I replied in a tiny voice.  
  
Then he asked Grandma to leave. Tears began to well in my eyes. I knew what was coming next.   
  
So did Grandma.   
  
"Jeff. It's the little one's birthday." she said, trying to intervene on my behalf. "Surely it's not necessary …"  
  
"It doesn't matter what day of the year it is." Dad interrupted. "He needs to learn the basics of responsibility."  
  
Grandma paused for a minute and gave me her "well I tried son" look before exiting the room.  
  
That left me all alone in front of my Father clutching the unopened birthday present in my hands.   
  
Dad held out his hand and I nervously handed over the present.  
  
"I see you haven't opened this yet." he observed.  
  
This time I shook my head. "Not yet Daddy."  
  
He sat in silence turning the box over and over in his hands as if determining its fate. After a while he seemed to make a decision. He looked me firmly in the eyes.   
  
"I'm not going to allow you to open this Alan." he said. "You can come with me to the store in the morning and exchange what's in here for a new raincoat."   
  
My face really dropped then.   
  
"Maybe that might teach you to take better care of your things next time son." he said sternly.  
  
I lowered my head. I would rather have had ten canings than give back my birthday present.   
  
"Yes Daddy." I replied trying not to cry.  
  
I waited for the next part of the punishment but nothing happened. Dad simply looked at me in silence. After a while he reached out his hand and ran it gently through my blonde hair. He paused as my curls rippled through his fingers. His eyes filled with tears. Obviously they offered a resistance he had experienced one too many times before.   
  
"So like your momma's." was all he said in voice that reeked with pain.   
  
I didn't speak. Dad had never mentioned my Mother in front of me before.   
  
After a few minutes he ran his hand down the side of my face and tilted my chin to look at him.  
  
I looked at him with frightened blue eyes not knowing what was coming next.  
  
"Go back downstairs to Grandma son." was all he said. "Daddy needs to be by himself tonight."   
  
I nodded my head and turned to leave the room.  
  
"Daddy ..." I said as I stood near the door.  
  
"Yes Alan?" he choked.  
  
"Will you come to my birthday party next year if I promise to do nothin' wrong?"  
  
He lowered his head when I asked him that.  
  
"Of course Daddy will come next year." he finally said. "I promise."   
  
I left Dad's room feeling happy about his promise to me but still feeling a sadness I didn't understand. Unfortunately that sadness was about to get worse.  
  
My sixth birthday didn't end with me escaping the inevitable caning in my Father's bedroom. It ended an hour later with me lying in my bed crying, feeling a pain far worse than any caning of Dad's could ever inflict. It was a pain I lived with in silence for the next fourteen years of my life and one that could have been avoided if only Johnny hadn't opened his heart to Gordon.  
  
You see there was a reason for Johnny's behaviour towards me at my party. He saw only one thing when he looked at me. A baby brother who had come home from the hospital instead of the mother he loved more than anything.  
  
Johnny had suffered those feelings of unhappiness since Mom died and on my sixth birthday he decided he couldn't keep them to himself anymore. He let them all out to Gordon, telling him something he had believed for the past six years.   
  
I was responsible for my Mother's death.  
  
Naturally Gordon took great delight in immediately relaying the information. We might have been close as brothers but we still enjoyed aggravating each other every chance we got.   
  
"You know what?" Gordon asked as the two of us pulled on our pyjamas.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Johnny says you killed mommy you know."  
  
I stopped buttoning up my shirt and looked at him dumbfounded.  
  
"What do you mean?" I quavered.   
  
"He says it's your fault we don't have our mommy any more." he said watching me intently to see how I would react. "He said Daddy took Mommy away to get you and she never came back."  
  
I stood in silence trying to absorb what he was saying.   
  
Gordon soon realised he had made a very big mistake saying anything.   
  
I had been accused of lots of things up until then; things from being difficult and stubborn, to having no regard for anything or anybody. But let me tell you being blamed for killing the woman who meant everything to my Father and my brothers was the worst accusation of all. It totally shattered me.   
  
I still remember how I felt inside as I vehemently denied it and tried not to cry. I also remember Grandma rushing through the door in absolute dismay, hugging me tightly and telling me what Gordon had just said was completely untrue.   
  
Today had all been too much for me. First the awful experience at the cemetery, then Dad taking away my birthday present, a big dose of tiredness from hardly any sleep the night before and now this. It was the last straw. Tracy sons didn't cry but I couldn't hold myself together any longer. I looked at my Grandma and then at Gordon. My lips started to tremble violently and I burst into a flood of tears. I buried my head in her shoulder and sobbed my heart out.  
  
"I didn't do it Grandma." I muffled into her dress. "I didn't."  
  
Grandma rounded on Gordon.  
  
"What do you think you're doing talking all that damned nonsense! "she admonished him. "I got a mind to take you over my knee right this minute saying something dreadful like that to your poor little brother."  
  
Gordon's eyes filled with tears. He hadn't understood the magnitude of his words but Grandma was certainly making him understand the magnitude of them now.   
  
"I didn't mean to make Alan cry Grandma." he swallowed. "But that's what Johnny said to me."  
  
"Well you didn't have to go big noting yourself and repeating it to Alan." she snapped. "If your Daddy was up to it at the moment I'd haul you into his room right here and now to explain yourself."  
  
I think Grandma was more upset than I was at that point and as for Gordon; all he could do now was cry too. Both of us were accustomed to Dad being cross but when Grandma lost her temper we knew we were really in trouble.  
  
She glared at Gordon.  
  
"You go and get that brother or yours right this minute and tell him I want to see him in his room." she demanded. "That young man's head needs some serious sorting out if he believes something like that about his baby brother."  
  
As Gordon went to find John, Grandma squeezed me protectively and stroked my hair. She knew the truth about what happened to Mom would have to come out one day but she had always hoped Dad would be the one to tell me.   
  
Now she had been put in the dreadful position of having to explain things to me herself. She lowered her voice and held me close to her.   
  
"Don't cry sweetie. You believe Grandma when she says Johnny's got it all wrong. What happened to your momma wasn't your fault. "she soothed. "Your momma died because the Doctor's carin' for her weren't mindful, weren't vigilant and didn't realise you needed help comin' into the world. By the time they did it was too late."   
  
At six years of age, I didn't understand a word of what Grandma said but in my own mind things had started to make sense. Everyone gave me strange looks and whispered whenever my mother was mentioned. Dad locked himself away from me every year on my birthday. It had to be because I was to blame for it all. Lucille Tracy, the mother I never knew, died because of me.  
  
Despite Grandma's reassurance and John's half-hearted apology later in the evening I burdened myself with a dreadful guilt from that day forward.  
  
It took a very emotional discussion with my Dad only last month to finally convince myself that I was wrong.  
  
WILD ANTICS  
  
Before I continue, I think now is the appropriate time to tell you a bit about my friend Tin-Tin Kyrano. As you already know the two of us are more than friends these days but despite the physical side to our relationship we also have something else in common. It's something that will never change no matter whoever or whatever comes along. You see Tin-Tin and I have a deep and special friendship and OK I'll finally let down my guard and admit it ... I absolutely adore her.   
  
Tin-Tin Kyrano came to live in our home twelve years ago when I was nine years old.  
  
I always remember it and let me tell you so does Grandma.   
  
We had just moved to New York and it was Grandma's sixty-third birthday. Dad made his first mistake early in the day with an announcement to Grandma that it was about time he allowed her retire so that she could do a little of what other Grandma's did before she was too old to do it. Grandma immediately got all hot under the collar and demanded to know exactly what other Grandmas did that she didn't know about or she was missing out on. Dad suggested she might like to have the time to go out with people her own age. Dad said she needed to start enjoying herself a little more instead of staying home all the time looking after us.   
  
"After all Mom." he very stupidly pointed out. "You aren't getting any younger you know."   
  
Saying that really got Grandma going.  
  
"I'm not about to fall off my perch Jeff Tracy and even if I was how do you know I don't happen to like staying home and caring for my Grandsons?" she flashed.  
  
Dad had no comeback for that one but it was far too late even if he did. Then he made his second mistake… telling her that a Mr. Kyrano had already accepted his generous invitation to move from Paris to New York to live in our huge brand new home in Manhattan. His job was going to be keeping an eye on Dad's diary and managing the domestic affairs. Ruffled as she was Grandma knew there was absolutely nothing she could say or do about it.  
  
I won't elaborate on the atomic explosion Dad's strategy caused but believe me when I tell you Mr. Kyrano wasn't Grandma's favourite person for quite a long time after that. And as far as Gordon and I were concerned, neither was his ten year old daughter Tin-Tin.  
  
At ten and nine respectively the two of us really hated girls. We were very discontented when Dad lined us up in his room and instructed us we were to act like gentlemen around Tin-Tin Kyrano and make her feel at home.  
  
"I mean it boys." he warned. "You be nice to Tin-Tin or else."  
  
When the two of us shuffled our feet around and frowned he decided to change his approach.  
  
"Oh come on boys. It will be nice having a little girl around the house. It will be sort of like having a sister after all these years."  
  
The two of us looked at each other. Was he kidding?  
  
And so it was we were reluctantly introduced to Tinarda Jane Kyrano, a small thin little girl with long black plaits and big brown eyes. She eyed the two of us warily. It was obvious she didn't like the idea any more than we did.  
  
The first two weeks she didn't even leave her room except to eat and use the bathroom. No matter what we did to try to be friendly she refused to have anything to do with us. Dad soon dropped the "sisterly" approach and hauled us back up into his room. He told us point blank we weren't trying hard enough and warned if Mr. Kyrano left because Tin-Tin was unhappy we would certainly know about it right in the seat of our pants.  
  
"Do I make myself clear?" he said in his "you'd better not argue with me" voice.  
  
Both of us hung our heads and kicked at the carpeting.  
  
"Yes Sir." we replied in a disgruntled unison.  
  
"Now the two of you go downstairs and make an effort please." he directed. "NOW …"   
  
It took a practical joke, not an effort to break the ice. It was an innocent little prank involving Tin-Tin's doll but it certainly had the desired effect  
  
It began when I decided to take the law into my own hands to get Tin-Tin to talk to us. We were in big trouble with Dad anyway so what was a little bit more? I jumped off my bed and scampered down the Hall towards her room.   
  
I peered around the corner to see if the coast was clear. Sure enough she was in the bathroom. She sure spent a lot of time in the bathroom back then; actually she still does if you want to know the honest truth about it.  
  
Anyway, moving as quickly as I could, I slid into her room and grabbed her most precious possession from her bed. I tore back down the hall in one hell of a hurry and quickly hid the doll in the back of our closet. Gordon saw the whole thing and was panic stricken.  
  
"If she tells Dad you took her things we're dead." he said in a worried voice. "I get enough canings these days as it is without getting one for that too."  
  
"She won't tell." I said brazenly. "She don't talk to no-one."  
  
Luckily for both of us I was right. It took three days for her to muster the courage but she finally forced herself to knock on the door of our bedroom and in a very tiny and terrified voice asked me if I'd seen her doll.   
  
I looked her up and down and pushed my curls out of my eyes.  
  
"Yeah." I replied in a tough voice. "I saw it all right."  
  
After a few more minutes she squeaked.  
  
"Do you know where she is at the moment?"  
  
"Yep." I said.  
  
Her face lit up but I didn't move. This stuck-up little ten year old was going to have to ask me for it and I wasn't giving it back until she did.  
  
"Where?" she asked.  
  
"Where you can't find her." I replied.  
  
"Please Alan." she pleaded looking at me with her beautiful brown eyes. "Please may I have her back?"  
  
I don't know what exactly Tin-Tin Kyrano did to me at that precise moment but whatever the hell it was that girl reached out, grabbed my heart and made it her own in the space of ten seconds.  
  
I've been hopelessly smitten with her ever since.   
  
So what would one day end up as a very deep, very intimate relationship between a man and a woman began. I don't know whether fate had a hand in it or not but as the days and months passed by I became inexplicably drawn to Tin-Tin Kyrano and we developed an exceptionally close and special friendship.   
  
We played together. We confided in each other.  
  
And we argued.  
  
Constantly.   
  
The two of us would bicker over the most menial of things. Tin-Tin would cry. I would sulk. Both of us would refuse to speak to each other for days.   
  
"You two carry on like you're married sometimes." Grandma scolded one afternoon during one such argument. "I swear I've never seen two youngsters so intent on arguing the point just for the sake of it in my whole entire life."  
  
My twelve year old face reddened as my older brothers burst into laughter and started to tease me. The thought of Tin-Tin and me ever getting married was unsavoury and undesirable to say the least and I made no secret of how I felt about it either.  
  
"There's no way anyone in their right mind would get married at all let alone marry you. "I said candidly.  
  
"Well I wouldn't be stupid enough to get myself in a position where I had to marry you in the first place!" she flashed in return.   
  
"Will you two stop that!" Grandma demanded preparing to leave the room in disgust. "If you can't speak civilly to each other, don't say anything."  
  
"Suits me." I snapped folding my arms and glaring at her.   
  
"Spoilt brat." she muttered as she folded her arms too.   
  
Grandma rolled her eyes and left. She couldn't take it any longer. But not me. If Tin-Tin wanted an argument I was more than ready to give it to her.  
  
"SPOILT? ME?" I protested getting ready to explode. "You're the one who's the spoilt brat Tin-Tin."  
  
"Oh really? Who was the one who sulked about getting a C on his Math test until his Grandma felt sorry for him and gave him the first AND LARGEST piece of pie?"  
  
"I wasn't sulking."  
  
"Yes you were. You were acting like a complete brat over a test you didn't study for in the first place. You always do if you don't get what you want."   
  
"That's because I never get anything around here. It's always got to be you first and I'm sick of it."  
  
"I should get things first." she replied with her nose in the air. "I'm a woman."  
  
I looked at her. Back then I possessed the trump card to each and every argument I had with thirteen year old Tin-Tin Kyrano.  
  
"I know you're a woman." I smirked. "And if you're not careful I'll tell absolutely everyone I know why you are one too."   
  
It was Tin-Tin's turn to explode then. She was very aware what I knew about her recent leap forward into womanhood and was terrified I'd say something to my brothers about it. Tears welled in her eyes as I gave her my usual smug look indicating I'd won the argument again.  
  
"I hate you." she spat storming towards the door. "One day all this is going to happen to you Alan and I swear you're going to know about it every step of the way."  
  
"Tin-Tin I don't think what's happened to you is ever gonna to happen to me somehow!" I laughed. "I'm a boy remember?"  
  
"You're a child that's what you are!" she shot back.  
  
"A child that knows a very big secret about you!" I grinned. "Remember that!"  
  
The argument ended up with Tin-Tin leaving the room in a huff and slamming the door. She really wasn't coping with the transition to puberty at all and at twelve years of age and still in a child's body, I loved every single minute of it.  
  
Well Tin-Tin Kyrano might have been having trouble relating to being a woman but I didn't foresee any trouble in dealing with the issues of becoming a man.   
  
Boy was I ever wrong about that…   
  
My move forward into manhood began with the "talk" and I have to say the day I received instruction from my Father about the "birds and the bees" was one hell of a day in my life and one hell of a day in my Father's life too. Dad was a man in total crisis that night.  
  
Talking to us about impending manhood really bothered Dad. When I was younger I often heard Virgil and Scott having a good old laugh about the content of "Dad's talk" and the fact that it happened to every Tracy son without fail on his thirteenth birthday.   
  
The two of them howled with hilarity on John's thirteenth birthday as our blonde-haired brother was hauled up into Dad's room for his inevitable instruction about life. At the time I remember Virgil turning around to look at Gordon who was not quite eleven.  
  
"You'll be next squirt." he laughed in his deep and manly voice. "Believe me you'd better start preparing yourself now."   
  
"And then it's gonna be you." he added giving me a wink. "You'd better start getting ready too."  
  
"Poor Dad." Scott chuckled. "He hasn't even got a year in between Gordon and Alan to recover."  
  
Those two were terrible. They waited around half the night for Johnny to be dismissed by Dad and when he came down the stairs looking like he'd been through a near death experience they surrounded him like the military police and demanded to know all the details.  
  
"Well?" Scott asked with a massive grin on his face.   
  
"Well what?" John frowned.  
  
"Did he sit you in the chair opposite his bed?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Did he pace around the room for ten minutes not saying anything?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Did he clear his throat over and over?"   
  
"Yeah"  
  
"Did he sit down and look at his hands?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Did he give you the demonstration?"  
  
John reddened.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Virgil burst out laughing.  
  
"So did you learn anything Johnny?  
  
John nodded his head.  
  
"Yeah. Dad's sure hell bent on me protecting myself."  
  
So as you can imagine Gordon and myself had a pretty good idea of what to expect when we reached the magical number of thirteen. But unfortunately for Gordon his thirteenth birthday came and went and the eagerly anticipated event failed to occur. As the days rolled by into March he began to complain he had been forgotten.   
  
"Maybe Dad simply can't face doing that demonstration again." Scott speculated with a grin.   
  
"I know I sure couldn't face seeing it again." John shuddered.  
  
"Gee Gords I'd start worrying if I was you." Virgil winked. "You might never get to find out how it's done."   
  
"I already know how it's done for your information." Gordon replied dryly and then a mischievous look stole over his face. "But I sure do hope Dad tries to tell me."  
  
But Dad had a special reason for failing to fulfil his Fatherly duties on Gordon's thirteenth birthday. Unbeknown to both of us the delay was very deliberate. Dad was waiting for me to turn twelve so he could deliver his "talk about life" for one last time... to both of us.   
  
The talk happened quite unexpectedly. One night after supper Dad instructed the two of us to remain behind at the table and said he wanted to have a word with us. His voice was gruff as it usually was when we were in trouble over something and I immediately assumed we were about to blasted for the practical joke we'd played on Grandma earlier in the evening.  
  
You can imagine my wide-eyed delight as Dad divulged he intended to educate me in physical matters nearly twelve months earlier than I expected.  
  
Grandma had obviously been warned it was coming because instead of settling in with Dad for their customary "after supper cognac", she rose from the table looking everywhere but at us.   
  
Gordon knew immediately what was about to happen and whilst I think he was a bit annoyed I got to be included, he grinned at Dad with excitement.  
  
Personally I don't think Dad will ever recover from that hour of "hell" as he tried to explain the facts of life to Gordon and to me. I've never seen anyone so worked up about anything and I began to wonder how any of us even made it into the world in the first place if he was so uptight about the subject.  
  
The pattern of the lecture was exactly how Scott and Virgil said it was going to be. First there was the silence, then the clearing of the throat, the clinical lecture about sex, and finally as he reached into his jacket pocket; the dreaded "demonstration."  
  
"It's imperative you protect yourself no matter what the girl says." he stated forcefully, as he showed us the example. "I simply won't tolerate either of you coming to me and saying you've gotten yourself into trouble when you can use this to stay out of it."   
  
Gordon burst into laughter and winked at me.  
  
"Boy Alan you and me are sure gonna have to grow a lot in the next few years if we're gonna fit into that." he joked.  
  
"Why do they make 'em so big Dad?" I grinned playing along with Gordon.   
  
Poor Dad. He truly believed he hadn't been specific enough about what actually happened to a man and listening to him trying to explain it was darned hilarious. The two of us shook with laughter as Dad gave us a rather graphic explanation of things from a man's perspective and followed it up with a very detailed demonstration on how to protect ourselves when the time came.   
  
Then came the matter of how girls changed into women. Tin-Tin immediately became the subject of the conversation. Dad was really out of his depth then. He didn't want to talk about Tin-Tin and desperately tried everything he could to avoid it. However I was determined to hear it all and asked him so many questions he ended up having to broach the subject. He almost needed resuscitation when I told him I knew all about Tin-Tin's cycles and had known about them from the first day they had begun. As I said Dad was a man in complete crisis that night and the two of us should have been ashamed of ourselves for what we put him through.  
  
However Grandma wasn't too happy I knew about Tin-Tin. She looked me straight in the eye and pointed out what had happened to her wasn't to be taken lightly and I certainly wasn't to tease her about it.  
  
"It's going to be a mighty important thing to this family one day. "she said "You just mark my words."  
  
Enter Grandma's plan for Tin-Tin and me. She would see us married if it killed her.   
  
Part A of the plan had been successfully launched. Tin-Tin was well on her way to womanhood.   
  
But when Part B of the plan finally commenced, I think Grandma wondered what in hell went wrong. I was moving towards manhood all right... but not quite in the straight and narrow way she had expected.   
  
Fifteen is a complicated age and more so because my worst fears had become a reality. I was having a very difficult time coping with becoming a man and my "friend" Tin-Tin was finally getting her revenge. She was now a very self-assured teenager who was most comfortable with her body and how it worked. I on the other hand had a voice that didn't stay the same for more than two sentences and hadn't done for nearly twelve months plus the terrible misfortune of not being able to keep "things" under control anywhere let alone when Tin-Tin or anything remotely female came near me.  
  
Oh she loved that. She would see me redden, know what was happening and laugh like crazy.  
  
She was relentless in her teasing and our arguments increased. It was a nightmare. I couldn't even argue properly. My voice would start off deep but the moment my temper started to hot up, so would my voice. It crackled and squeaked and I always ended making a complete fool of myself. And let's face it you simply can't win an argument when the person you're arguing with is standing there laughing herself senseless at you.   
  
To make things even more difficult, my sixteen year old brother had simply changed from a boy to a man with absolute, competent ease. Gordon's voice suddenly went deep one day and that was the end of it. He even shocked Dad with how easy it was for him. And as for the rest of it … well Gordon must have had a lot more control over himself than I did that's all I'll say.  
  
And the final blow … Gordon had managed to put Dad's "talk about life" into practice and wouldn't stop bragging about it. I frowned and listened to him with discontent. My brother and I have always been extremely competitive and this was no exception. If he was a man, I was going to be a man. I was only fifteen, a full year younger than he was but I knew I was capable. Boy was I ever capable.  
  
Now I swear Grandma is telepathic. I truly believe she sensed my plans to experiment with girls from the moment they were formulated in my head. All of a sudden whenever I said I was going off somewhere with Tin-Tin she made very sure someone else was going too. She nearly had a nervous breakdown one night when I asked Tin-Tin if she wanted to come upstairs and listen to some music in my room.  
  
"Err…I believe I'd like to hear that too." she interceded much to our complete surprise. "Bring the disc downstairs to the lounge room Alan."  
  
You can imagine Dad through all of this can't you? One minute he was sitting in his armchair reading his newspaper and enjoying a bit of peace and quiet, the next minute Grandma was sitting in the middle of Tin-Tin and me on the couch, tapping her feet and listening to rock music.  
  
"Mom." he said shaking his head at her. "I'm really starting to get worried about you."  
  
But the reason for Grandma's eccentric behaviour was very real to her even if none of us understood what the heck was going on. She had developed a transient fear I was going to experiment with Tin-Tin and there was absolutely no way she was risking that. That would only serve to upset "the plan".   
  
She needn't have worried. Tin-Tin Kyrano and I were just friends back then or at least we were between the arguments.  
  
But I was still determined to experience what Gordon called "the ultimate".  
  
Well it was "the ultimate" all right if getting caught in the Science Lab with the Principal's daughter and being suspended from school is anything for a guy to brag about. Despite all the plans I had for the experience of a lifetime it sure didn't turn out that way. One minute I was winking at Amy Maxwell across the cafeteria, the next minute we were locked together in the science lab storeroom next to Mr. Bentley's Bunsen burners. The minute after that we were discovered by Mr. Bentley and the rest of the experience is history. I was in the Principal's Office, Dad had been sent for and I was wishing I was dead.  
  
When Dad came through the door I knew I didn't have to wish for it. The look on his face told me I was going to be dead the minute he got his hands on me.  
  
I have to hand it to Dad. He certainly handled the situation with Mr. Maxwell with great aplomb and almost as if he'd had to do it all before.   
  
Yes, he understood how serious the whole situation was.  
  
No, he didn't condone that type of behaviour.  
  
Yes, he did set a decent example for me at home.  
  
No, he was sure it hadn't been his daughter's fault.  
  
Yes, he did understand I was under age.  
  
Yes, he understood the he would have to suspend me to set an example to the other students.   
  
Yes, he would be discussing this with me further.  
  
No, it certainly wouldn't be happening again.  
  
So when a very humiliated Dad rose to his feet to leave and demanded in a low and angry voice for me to go and get my things I knew I was "dead man walking."   
  
I may as well have suffered capital punishment that day. What happened was nearly as bad. Not only did I get it big time from Dad all the way home in the car but I got it ever bigger from Grandma when I finally got there.   
  
When Grandma found out why Dad had been called up to the High School Grandma saw red. She tore down the Hall to my room like a tornado and blasted her way inside.  
  
It was bad enough I'd had to sit in the car with Dad for nearly two hours being read the riot act but now Hurricane Josie was on the scene.  
  
For the first ten minutes all she did was yell at me. After that she grabbed me by the arm and yelled at me some more.  
  
"You are only fifteen young man! Fifteen years old. You're still a boy. At fifteen your Daddy was still climbing trees and throwing stones in the river. He wasn't even thinkin' about girls. Look at you then. Climbing all over young women not even old enough to know what you're doing let alone take the consequences for it. You tell me somethin' young man. You want to be a Daddy before you're sixteen?"  
  
I shook my head. As I said before it didn't bother me overly much when Dad blasted me but when Grandma got in on the act, I knew I was really in trouble.  
  
"No ma'am." I replied with my head down.  
  
"And what about the girl you just left with your calling card? You want to be married to her son?"  
  
"No ma'am." I swallowed.  
  
"Well you mark my words you will be marrying her if the timin' for what you just did in that science lab was wrong."   
  
She placed both hands on her hips and leaned forward to glare into my face.  
  
"And let me tell you right here and right now if that happens Alan Tracy you're gonna be one mighty sorry young man around your Grandmother."  
  
With that she stormed out of the room almost as forcefully as she had stormed in. I was upsetting "the plan" with my actions and there was no way she was tolerating that.  
  
Speaking of the plan, I got very little sympathy from Tin-Tin. She and Gordon did nothing but grin at me over dinner to the point I was getting ready to have a piece of the two of them. But I was in so much trouble with Dad and Grandma I wasn't brave enough to have a piece of anyone. Dad simply glared at me. Grandma glared too.  
  
Finally the two of them left the table to sit outside and talk. I could imagine what the subject was.   
  
Me.  
  
Gordon and Tin-Tin watched them go. Tin-Tin burst into laughter. Gordon shook his head.  
  
"You dumb-ass." he said. "What'd you go and do it in the science lab for? You should know Mr. Bentley goes in there every recess."  
  
"Now why the hell would I know that?" I retorted. "I don't hang out in classrooms during recess."  
  
"I dunno you were hanging out pretty darn well today!" he grinned.   
  
Tin-Tin really started laughing then.   
  
"Yeah well you just remember I was much younger than you were when you did it for the first time." I flashed.   
  
"Yeah and you're much more suspended too." he replied completely unimpressed. "Boy Alan, you are in so much trouble with Grandma. I've never seen her as mad at you as she is right now."  
  
"I know she is." I snapped. "You think I'm stupid or something?"  
  
Tin-Tin looked me straight in the eye.  
  
"Anyone who gets caught in the science lab doing what you were doing has to be stupid."  
  
My temper reared.   
  
"Oh really?" I flashed.  
  
"Yes really." she flashed back.   
  
We eyed each other across the table in distaste.   
  
"Yeah well you'd better be a good boy for the rest of your life little brother that's all I'll say." Gordon said rising from the table and looking in the direction of the porch. "Grandma is still going off about you out there and both of us know you never mess with Grandma."  
  
Words of wisdom I think I should have heeded more closely.  
  
Eventually Grandma and Dad got over the "Science Lab incident" as they both referred to it. Their recovery was aided by the fact that I kept well away from girls now and even to the point of ignoring Tin-Tin. Actually if you really want the honest truth Tin-Tin was ignoring me.  
  
I don't know why. All I'd done is make a stray comment I didn't even mean and she took it completely the wrong way. When she said her first time wasn't going to be anything like mine all I said was  
  
"Don't you worry. It won't be!"  
  
Now what's wrong with that I ask you? Maybe I shouldn't have winked at her when I said it. I dunno. Who can figure out women?  
  
Anyway whether Tin-Tin was ignoring me or not I was on the straight and narrow again with girls and Dad and Grandma relaxed.  
  
They really shouldn't have done that I suppose.  
  
I had discovered a new vice.   
  
Alcohol.   
  
Dad's favourite punishment was to make me tidy his study. He knew I hated it. Rolling plan after plan after plan or sorting through three hundred contracts was like a Chinese water torture to me and nothing could get me to behave myself faster than the threat of having to do that.   
  
That's the background for what happened so I would like to say that all of this was Dad's fault, not mine.   
  
Dad should never have punished me that day in the first place. He had absolutely no proof that I had been smoking despite the evidence to the contrary. I know I smelt like I had been and I know the packet was in my jacket pocket but that didn't mean it I was doing it did it? I told you he was judgemental.  
  
"Smoking is bad for your health and a waste of money." he thundered throwing the cigarettes into the trash. "I've told your brothers and I know I've told you haven't I?"  
  
I nodded my head and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket.  
  
"Yes Sir." I muttered.  
  
"So since you feel the need to defy me Alan, yet again, I can feel the need to have my study tidied up."   
  
The next thing I knew Dad was headed for Atlanta and Grandma had been given her instructions. I was to stay in the study until all the plans were sorted and all the contracts were put away in date order.  
  
I grimaced when I walked through the door. The Company was booming at the moment and Dad was very busy. Tidying all this up was going to take me hours.   
  
Now Dad should never have left a full bottle of bourbon on the shelf in front of me should he? I was sixteen… unhappy with how he was treating me … bored as anything and … well … one drink led to another. I thought I could handle it and the alcohol in my blood certainly made doing the job of rolling and sorting much less monotonous. I don't remember much after the fifth one except for one thing and that was Grandma nearly ripping my ear off when she found me and realised what I was doing.  
  
I must have passed out after that because the next thing I recall is waking up the next morning feeling so sick I thought I was going to die. All I could taste was bourbon and let me say it doesn't taste half as good coming up and it does going down.  
  
I got absolutely no sympathy from Grandma. She was livid and I received yet another tongue-lashing from her about my wild child ways. This time she brought my mother into it saying that she would be appalled at the things I was doing.  
  
"First the women, now the drink. You're a youngster out of control Alan Tracy." Grandma reprimanded me. "There'll be no more drinkin' as far as you're concerned you hear me? Not now. Not ever!"  
  
The way I felt at that particular moment I agreed with her. If this was how alcohol made you feel I was never drinking it again.  
  
Naturally when Dad came home she told him what I'd been up to and before I knew it I was standing with my back to the wall in his room being balled out again.   
  
"I don't know where I got you from Alan!" he shrieked. "Why the hell I didn't take your Grandmother's advice and see to myself when I should have I'll never know!"   
  
Naturally my little effort landed me back in the study again, this time sorting through every contract Dad had ever signed.  
  
Twelve thousand six hundred and forty seven contracts to be exact. It took up three full days of my vacation.  
  
They were three days I didn't want to give up either.  
  
I had another passion now.  
  
Fast Cars.  
  
Since Scott had finished College and entered the Air Force he had saved his own money and brought himself a brand new car. This of course meant he would be getting rid of "Sadie."   
  
Sadie was Scott's first car, an old Ferrari Dad had brought from a business associate when Scott was in High School. Despite our massive wealth the five of us didn't get it easy you know. Dad said Scott only needed a second hand car for College and Sadie would do him just fine. Naturally Scott souped up the engine and made Sadie one pretty hot item. He'd loved the car so much he'd kept it when he entered the Air Force.   
  
But he was twenty-five now, a bit of a playboy, and somehow a beaten up old Ferrari just didn't fit his very eligible bachelor image. Especially the eldest son of Jefferson Tracy; billionaire.   
  
So with the arrival of the Porsche, it looked as though Sadie's days were over and she was destined for the scrap heap.  
  
Gordon and I looked at each other hopefully.  
  
"What's happening to Sadie Scott?" the two of us piped up.  
  
"Why squirts?" he asked. "You guys want her?"  
  
Our eyes were wider than our grins at that question.  
  
"Oh wow!" we exclaimed in unison. "We sure do!"  
  
"Well you can have her if you want." he shrugged. "As long as it's OK with Dad."  
  
Dad agreed provided we didn't drive it on the road until he allowed it. Dad had his doubts about Sadie and wanted to make sure she was roadworthy.  
  
I had just passed my Driver's Test and could hardly wait to drive her out on the freeway but as Dad had instructed, Sadie was dutifully parked in the garage until she became roadworthy. He gave Gordon and me a modest budget to bring her back to standard and said once it was done he would have the car professionally assessed.  
  
"I knew I did auto shop in High School for a reason." Gordon grinned, eagerly looking inside the bonnet. "Scott thought Sadie was hot before … wait 'till we finish with her hey Al?"  
  
I didn't reply. I was too busy laughing my head off in the front seat.  
  
"What's so funny?" he frowned peering at me through the window.  
  
"This, that's what," I grinned holding up a very scant and very provocative looking G-string. "Looks like Sadie's been one helluva hot car in her time both inside and out."  
  
We both burst into laughter. Our big brother had finally been caught out!  
  
"I dare you to give that back to Scott in front of Dad." Gordon shot, his eyes wide with mischief.  
  
I shook my head, eyes equally as wicked.  
  
"No way. That's not good enough for this one. It requires a much bigger audience."   
  
Both of us agreed we'd take more drastic measures. We would wrap the G-string up as Scott's Christmas present and say it was a gift from "Sadie."   
  
I won't even begin to describe Scott's face Christmas morning when he opened that up. And you should have seen Grandma!  
  
"It's not mine!" he stammered to Dad while the rest of us shrieked with laughter on the floor.  
  
"I should hope it's not yours young man!" Grandma frowned.  
  
"Nope." Gordon winked. "It's not the right size!"  
  
Even Dad had a bit of a smile of his face then. I think Dad knew what Scott was like even though he never let on. To be honest I think our Father knows a lot more about all of us than we give him credit for even though he doesn't say anything.  
  
Anyway back to our love affair with Sadie; "the other woman" as Tin-Tin begrudgingly described her.  
  
Tin-Tin certainly didn't appreciate our dedication to our new toy and more so when we said we'd rather stay home and tinker under Sadie's bonnet than go anywhere with her.  
  
Sorry sweetheart but back then if I had to choose between a woman and a car, there was no contest. My heart belonged to Sadie!  
  
Finally Sadie was ready for the road and Dad allowed the two of us to drive her. Boy we drove her all right. She was one hot little machine and could do the most amazing speeds. Dad would have killed us if he knew how fast we used to drive in that car, especially me. Gordon could take it or leave it when it came to speed but I was hooked on it. I absolutely loved the rush it gave me and made the most of every moment.   
  
My future loomed in front of my eyes. I decided that summer I wanted to be a racing car driver.  
  
When Gordon left for WASP and Tin-Tin left for College I was left as an only child in a massive house in Manhattan. After being raised as the youngest child in a large family it was a very big change and a very lonely one. I was very close to my brother Gordon and I missed him terribly. Sadie became my best friend and I spent all my free time in her. But I could only drive so fast in Sadie and I wanted to prove to myself I was able to go faster. If I wanted to race professionally I had reached the point where I needed to move on to something else.  
  
I only had access to one car that could do the exorbitant speeds I wanted.   
  
Dad's brand new Porsche.  
  
I am sure I must have been suffering from some sort of deficiency in my head back then because I honestly believed Dad would be OK with it if it was for the right reasons. And wanting to ensure I was following the right career path to me was a good enough reason.  
  
It was one o'clock in the morning. Dad was fast asleep in his room, Grandma was asleep in hers. Kyrano was asleep on the other side of the house.  
  
I walked through the kitchen and placed my hand on the keys to the Porsche. I knew what I was about to do was dangerous but it wasn't really wrong. Right?  
  
"I need to know if I can do it." I told myself. "I don't have to go far. Dad won't know anyway and even if he does I'll have some ammunition to make a career out of it then."   
  
I knew I'd need all the ammunition I could get to convince Dad about this career choice that's for sure. Dad was making me nervous at the moment. He had started to speak about what he wanted me to do when I finished High School and what he wanted was for me to go to College in Colorado. Like Gordon, I didn't want to go to College but unlike Gordon my alternative wasn't even realistic.  
  
I had to make a racing career sound realistic and the only way I could do that was to prove to myself and to Dad I had what it took to race on the professional circuit.   
  
Skill at speed.  
  
The Police Officer who brought me home that night certainly didn't think I was ready for a career on the race track. He'd caught me doing ten miles over the speed limit on the way home. Boy was I lucky. Fifteen minutes before I'd been driving that baby at maximum speed down the freeway. Naturally when the Officer pulled me over I'd forgotten my carry my license and he shook his head when I said I was Jeff Tracy's son, hoping it would get me off.  
  
"I don't care whose son you are." he snapped. "You'd only be seventeen at the most and you were speeding boy… AND not carrying your license into the bargain."  
  
You can guess what's coming next can't you? A knock on the door at two o'clock in the morning, a Police Officer on the doorstep with me beside him and Dad in his pyjamas absolutely panic-stricken is not a good combination for family happiness in the Tracy household.  
  
Dad had to go through it all again.  
  
No, he didn't encourage me to drive without my licence.  
  
Yes, he did understand it was his responsibility to keep minors off the streets at that time of the night.  
  
No, there was no reason for me to be out at that time of the morning.  
  
Yes, he did take his responsibility as a parent seriously.   
  
No, it wasn't going to happen again.  
  
The whole time Dad was being chewed out by the Police Officer I cringed in front of Grandma. She stood in her nightdress, arms folded with a face of stone. I knew just by her face I was really going to get it this time.  
  
When the Police Officer left, Dad hauled me through the front door and slammed it so hard I swear the whole house shook. He swung around to face me and let fly.  
  
"Of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous, irresponsible things you've done to me over the years …" he began, starting to turn purple with fury. "This takes first prize …"  
  
This time there was no lecture. Dad had quite frankly had enough. I had pushed the boundaries too far this time.  
  
Dad held nothing back and he didn't care who the hell heard him. All his frustration, anger and humiliation built up over the past seventeen years of tolerating my wild child ways flooded out of him.   
  
He told me point blank Sadie was being sold.  
  
I opened my mouth to protest.  
  
He told me told point blank to shut it again.  
  
He told me point blank I was going to College.  
  
I opened my mouth to argue.  
  
He told me point blank to shut it again.  
  
"I've had it with you Alan." he roared. "If you can break the rules you do it. If there's trouble to be had, you'll find it. You are wild, undisciplined, unruly, unco-operative, and uncontrollable and I swear to God your mother would kill me if she saw how you're turning out. She died bringing you into this world and the very least you could do in return is make sure it wasn't all for nothing."  
  
He stopped himself at Grandma's warning glance. He was starting to say too much now.  
  
I opened my mouth to apologise.  
  
He told me told point blank to shut it again.  
  
"Don't say anything to me boy." Dad seethed shoving me towards the stairs. "Just get yourself the hell out of my sight before I say something I'll really regret."   
  
He stood there, angry beyond reason; eyes dilated waiting for me to go.  
  
I looked at my Grandma hoping she would say something to lighten up the situation. Her face remained like stone.   
  
"Do as your Father says." she said without emotion. "There is absolutely no excuse for this kind of behaviour Alan. I agree with your Father on everything and you only have yourself to blame."  
  
I hung my head.   
  
Grandma had never spoken to me like that before.  
  
I knew I'd gone too far.  
  
WILD TIMES  
  
Despite me making a real effort to stay out of trouble after that, Dad did not change his mind about College. I was going and that was it and despite a few heated arguments to the contrary I knew I may as well stop resisting.  
  
Dad insisted on flying me to Colorado himself, much to my extreme discontent. I never said a word the whole way there. I didn't want to go to College and having to be taken there like a child really made me mad.  
  
However when I arrived, I quickly appreciated Dad had done me a favour. Dad's sleek Tracy Enterprises jet attracted a good deal of attention from the girls as it taxied in from New York along the domestic runway. More than likely its million dollar price tag caught their eye but I think the fact it contained the billionaire himself was the main attraction.   
  
Or should I say the billionaire's youngest son.   
  
"That's him there." I heard one of them giggle as I walked through the terminal beside my Father. "The blonde one with the curls."  
  
I turned around and winked at her. She coloured immediately and gasped. "Did you see that? He noticed me."  
  
Dad gave me a warning glare to behave myself.  
  
"You are here to learn." he emphasised in a serious, stony voice. "I haven't brought you all the way up here to chase women."  
  
I smiled to myself. I know you didn't Dad but you couldn't stay here with me forever.  
  
Dad left me in Colorado with a stern warning to apply myself and with the threat he would be monitoring my Grades and would require an explanation if they weren't satisfactory. He said I had better excel like my other brothers if I knew what was good for me. I nodded obediently with no intention of doing anything more than what I had to. There were other more interesting things to do up here besides study Jet Propulsion Engineering that was for sure!  
  
Like race in fast cars.   
  
I'm sure Dad didn't realise it when he enrolled me in Colorado, but the local racetrack was almost next door to the College Campus. Naturally the moment he was on his way back to New York and everyone else was introducing themselves to each other and to College life, I was introducing myself to the local racing fraternity. Dad would kill me if he knew, but I was driving laps around that racetrack before I'd even bothered to register for my classes in college.   
  
"Ever considered a career on the track Tracy?" I was asked over and over again by people impressed with my potential, keen to market their cars and even keener to ensure the Tracy name was associated with them.  
  
"Yeah." I shrugged. "But the old man's put the skids on that. Least 'till I graduate."  
  
"Till I graduate."  
  
Well I guess I kind of forgot that if you want to graduate from College you have to go to class and pass the course.   
  
I didn't do either. Cutting class to practice at the track became the norm not the exception for me and failing in College was the unfortunate result.   
  
It didn't help that I was also being happily distracted by a never-ending chain of pretty young women most nights of the week. It was all so easy for me. The Tracy smile, a movie ... coffee at my place and without fail ... paradise for the night. At eighteen years of age, I had it made.  
  
So it goes without saying that my first twelve months in Colorado were horrendous if academic results were anything to go by but they were outstanding if you were anywhere near the finish line of the race-track or adding up the notches on my bedroom door.  
  
Dad was furious when he found out I was failing. He was on the televid within minutes of hearing about my progress or should I say lack of it.  
  
"What in the blazes are you doing up there Alan?" he said in threatening voice. "You're obviously not hitting the books hard enough."  
  
I swallowed, lied like crazy and said the course he'd selected for me was proving to be extremely difficult. Dad refuted that story completely.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous." he growled. "You could pass all of those subjects with both your eyes closed."  
  
It didn't help that Dad was paying for Tin-Tin to be educated at Oxford in England and she was repaying him tenfold by passing everything in her double degree with distinction.  
  
I promised Dad I'd "try" harder and I really did mean it when I heard how well Tin-Tin was doing. I told myself no matter what I had to find the time to go to classes and make an effort to study in the evenings.   
  
But it simply didn't work. I had to practice when the cars were at the track and as for the study ... well it's hard to fit that in when you're full on in the bedroom most nights of the week and trying to catch up on sleep in between.  
  
First Year Results were posted... Four subjects... four failures. I swallowed hard and braced myself. Dad was going to kill me.  
  
However it wasn't Dad I had to worry about. Three days after the results were posted, a sleek black hire car motored into the College Grounds and from out of it stepped a tall impressive figure wearing a dark blue air force uniform decorated with captain's bars and several medals of honour.   
  
It was my "other Father;" Captain Scott Carpenter Tracy of the United States Air Force.  
  
Scott was stationed in Nevada and Dad had been talking to him about my results. Scott was an Oxford boy in his last year of College and had worked his butt off to succeed so I knew by the way he stepped out of that car he wasn't here to talk to me about the weather. I was about to get the verbal caning of my life.   
  
"Alan." he barked in an authoritative military voice. "I want to talk to you."   
  
Scott's voice reeked of real discipline. It was obvious he gave orders back in Nevada and expected them to be obeyed.   
  
My temper flared. He could bark at me all he liked. I wasn't in the Air Force and I didn't have to take orders from him.  
  
"OK then big brother." I said folding my arms and giving him a look of complete arrogance. "Start talking. I'm listening."  
  
He shook his head at me in disappointment.  
  
"Alan ... what the hell are you playing at?" he asked in his big brother voice. "For Gods sake look at the state of you!"  
  
I gave him a bored look.   
  
"What's wrong with me then?"  
  
Scott frowned and looked me up and down.  
  
"Well you haven't had a hair cut in six months for one thing ...and when was the last time you shaved or changed your clothes?"  
  
"Last time I was on a promise." I replied in a smug voice.   
  
"Which was?"   
  
"Last night actually." I winked.   
  
At his look of revulsion my hackles reared up.  
  
"Oh come on Scott... not everyone chooses to go without it like Dad, you know." I said directly. "I know you don't if what I found in good old Sadie is anything to go by."  
  
Scott eyed me with distaste.  
  
"What the heck's gotten into you Alan?" he said through clenched teeth. "You're supposed to be a Tracy son."  
  
"I am a Tracy son." I flashed back, my voice dripping with rebellion. "You don't think I'd be having such a good time up here if I wasn't do you?"  
  
"Well I hope you're protecting yourself properly." he said sternly.  
  
I looked at him as if he was from the dark ages.  
  
"Oh please big brother. You didn't actually believe all that stuff Dad told you when you were thirteen did you? Women do protect themselves you know. Why the heck should I ruin a perfectly good moment for myself? "  
  
"Alan." he snapped. "I'm serious. You're a Tracy son. You're playing with fire if you don't use something."  
  
"You mean the women are." I grinned. "You should see 'em here Scott... tell 'em your Jeff Tracy's son and they open like ..."  
  
That was enough for Scott. He might be playing the field in Nevada too but he was decent about it and very careful when he did.   
  
"Never mind the simile." he snapped grasping my arm and shoving me head first into the front seat of the car. "You get your half smart ass in here right now. You and I have a lot of serious talking to do!"  
  
Well I know who did all the talking and it sure as hell wasn't me. Scott has a way of putting things that Dad doesn't let me tell you and I wasn't game enough to open my mouth. By the time Scott left Colorado for Nevada I felt like I'd been mauled not only by the military but by the Tracy family decency machine. I promised Scott I'd make an effort to pass my course if he'd do one thing for me in return... go back to Nevada and get the hell off my back.   
  
Well it worked to a certain degree. I had my hair cut short again, behaved with the decorum of "a Tracy son", and attended classes regularly. However despite it all nothing could stop my love of motor racing or control my roving eye for women.   
  
The racing continued and so did the reckless loving.   
  
However Scott flew in to visit every fortnight and that alone managed to control me enough to bumble my way through my second year and pass all my subjects. He also talked to the College Dean and made arrangements for me to study for and resit my failed subjects.   
  
Dad and Grandma both breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God for Scott. Responsible as he always was.   
  
But the year was almost over and it was time for our family to gather together to celebrate Christmas for the first time at our brand new home… an island in the South Pacific Ocean Dad had acquired for the biggest business investment of his life. The nature of the investment was still unknown to everyone except Dad but investments were the last thing on our minds as we all arrived on "Tracy Island" for the holiday season.   
  
That included our extended family …. a new friend of Dad's who was the same age as Johnny and fondly nicknamed Brains … his retainer Mr Kyrano…  
  
…and Tin-Tin.  
  
WILDLY IN LOVE  
  
Tin-Tin was the last to arrive Christmas Eve after a long and uncomfortable journey from London to San Diego and then on by private jet to our new home. She had just completed her third year at Oxford University and I hadn't seen her for over twelve months. She had written regular letters to me in Colorado but I didn't correspond well and I never seemed to find the time to reply. At least I had remembered her birthday and managed to send her a birthday card but that was where it had ended and I knew she wouldn't be pleased.  
  
I remember worrying a little about the reception I was going to get when she arrived, more so that the last time we'd been together the Christmas before I had started to feel ... well... differently about her. It hadn't bothered me at first until Gordon noticed it and then all my brothers got on the bandwagon and began to tease me that I was in love with her.  
  
I denied it of course. What I was feeling wasn't love. But I knew damn well it wasn't friendship either.  
  
Grandma said nothing the previous year but she certainly had quite a lot to say now as I walked with her on the beach waiting for Dad's plane to arrive from San Diego with Tin-Tin.   
  
"It's hard to believe you only have one year left of your College degree Alan." she said. "My the time has flown since you went to Colorado."  
  
I nodded my head. "Yes it has ma'am."  
  
"Tin-Tin's only got one year left to go now too." she pointed out. "A double degree in four years. She's certainly a clever little girl."  
  
I rolled my eyes. Here she goes again raving on about Tin-Tin. I thought to myself. Grandma's pride in Tin-Tin really irritated me.  
  
"Pretty too from the recent photographs her Father showed me." she said watching me carefully. "Did she send you any of those pictures of herself Alan?"  
  
I shrugged. "No ma'am. She wrote to me a couple of times but she didn't send any pictures."  
  
"Pity." she mused. "She's grown into a mighty stunning young woman from what I'm led to believe. Popular with the menfolk over in England too I understand."  
  
Her dark blue eyes were still scrutinising my reactions.   
  
I stopped on the beach and looked at her.  
  
"Oh?" I enquired with a hint of disappointment in my voice. "You think Tin-Tin has a boyfriend Grandma?"  
  
Grandma smiled impishly. She was pushing all the right buttons where I was concerned and I didn't even realise it.  
  
The "plan" had been actioned.  
  
"Oh yes." she nodded. "I'm sure she has. A pretty girl like that would have to have a man."  
  
Sure enough I felt jealousy burn within me for the first time. Tin-Tin couldn't be with anybody else. She was my friend and she belonged to me.  
  
"Well." I said in a ruffled voice. "It wouldn't be serious."  
  
"Most likely not." Grandma shrugged. "But then you never know."  
  
I bristled. It was OK for me to ignore Tin-Tin Kyrano when it suited me but no-one else was allowed to rustle in on her without my permission. I looked impatiently towards the eastern horizon. Where the hell was the Dad's plane?  
  
Grandma left it at that but she made very sure she was next to me on the landing strip when Tin-Tin finally arrived.  
  
I still see the hatch opening up, Dad dismounting... and then... as my eyes opened widely … HER  
  
I don't know if it was all the build-up courtesy of Grandma but as far as I was concerned at that moment Tinarda Jane Kyrano was the only girl for me. She looked sensational. Her face was beautiful, her smile was unforgettable, her figure stunning … and ... well ... frankly ... she literally blew me away.   
  
"Looks like those photographs were right." Grandma observed watching with satisfaction as the infatuation crept over my face. "Mighty stunning young woman our little Tin-Tin wouldn't you say Alan?"  
  
With that Grandma went forward with her Father to kiss her. But the whole time, Tin-Tin's velvet brown eyes looked in my direction and once the greeting was over she walked over to where I stood on the runway.  
  
"Hello Alan." she said taking my hands in hers and kissing my cheek. "It's nice to see you again."  
  
I responded by squeezing her hands in return. I inhaled the delicate musk perfume she wore and felt my heart begin to race.  
  
"Yeah ..." I breathed unable to keep my eyes off her. "You got that right."  
  
That was it. When my blue eyes met her brown ones and the kiss happened the struggle was over as far as I was concerned.  
  
The pretty twenty year old who'd come to grace our home ten years ago had me right in the palm of her hand.  
  
And Grandma knew it.  
  
Four years before Grandma had gone to so much trouble to make sure the two of us weren't left alone in the same room. Now she went out of her way to make sure we were.  
  
"I'll leave you two alone." she said Christmas night as the three of us stood out on the balcony overlooking the ocean. "It's a lovely warm night to be underneath the stars appreciating the company."  
  
Grandma was so priceless and so damned obvious.  
  
"I think your Grandma is trying to tell us something." Tin-Tin giggled as Grandma retired into the lounge and shut the ornate French doors. "Don't you?"  
  
I looked at my friend Tin-Tin Kyrano and reddened.  
  
"Yeah." I replied stupidly.  
  
She said nothing as her eyes scanned the heavens.  
  
"Does that bother you?" I added.  
  
She turned her attention out to the sea which quietly lapped the shore.  
  
"Not really. You?"  
  
"No why should it?" I replied trying to make it sound as though involving myself with her was as repulsive now as it was when I was twelve years old.  
  
"Alan ..." she began turning to look at me. "Why didn't you write to me in England?"  
  
I lowered my head.  
  
"I … I did." I began.  
  
She eyed me.  
  
"You sent me a card Alan." she said in a flat voice. "And what's more you didn't even take the time to write in it. The only way I knew it was from you was by the postmark."  
  
I really reddened then.   
  
"I guess I've been busy Tin-Tin."  
  
She was still looking directly into my eyes.  
  
"Or you didn't want to."  
  
Normally that sort of accusation would be enough to get me on my high horse and instigate an argument between us.  
  
But not this time.  
  
"That's not true Tin-Tin." I replied in an almost inaudible voice.  
  
The two of us continued to look at each other in the darkness.  
  
We were silent.  
  
"You've gotten tall." she said.  
  
"And you've gotten prettier." I said.  
  
Our eyes continued to meet.  
  
This was becoming awkward now.  
  
"Things are changing between us aren't they Alan?" she asked quietly.  
  
I shook my head vehemently. I never wanted things to change between us. She was my best friend.  
  
There was no room for love in a friendship like ours.  
  
"Things aren't changing." I stressed. "Just because a guy says you're pretty doesn't mean things have changed."  
  
I grinned at her and started to joke around to lighten up the uncomfortable moment.   
  
"Besides Tin-Tin I'm still the same pain in the ass I always was!"  
  
She laughed. "Yes you are Alan! That's one thing that's never going to change."  
  
I leaned forward on the railing and put an arm around her shoulders. She didn't flinch. She knew it was an arm of friendship but I noted how perfectly her body moulded into mine, almost as if we were meant to fit together.  
  
"I'm glad you're here with me Tin-Tin." I said with an honesty that had always existed between us. "I really am."  
  
"Well write to me next year Alan!" she demanded and slapped me on the arm.   
  
So despite the stars in the sky and the romance in the air that night much to my Grandma's disappointment; nothing happened.  
  
For the rest of the vacation nothing happened either. While Grandma did everything in her power to bring us together we steadfastly refused to allow ourselves to be anything more than "just friends."  
  
And that was becoming hard.  
  
I tried to act like I used to act ... initiating friendly arguments, making attempts to tease and cracking pathetic jokes. She was the same. But more and more it was becoming painfully obvious to both of us. We were falling in love with each other and nothing we could say or do was going to stop things.  
  
Except a return to College.  
  
She was leaving first. She had one year to go before she graduated from Oxford with a double degree. I had one year to go in Colorado.  
  
The night before she left, the two of us walked together on the beach. Dad and Kyrano were down there too and both of us were on our guard. I'd offered my hand once we were out of their sight but she'd declined it. The two of us walked side by side in silence.  
  
"You gonna be seeing anyone when you get back to College?" I asked cautiously, very aware of Grandma's statement about how a pretty girl like Tin-Tin would have to have a man.  
  
"How about you in Colorado?" she asked in return.  
  
"I asked you first." I challenged.  
  
She stopped walking and looked at me in the darkness.  
  
"No Alan." she said emphatically. "No I'm not."  
  
"Good." I replied and smiled at her. "So do you want to walk a little further or go back inside?"  
  
She folded her arms and frowned.  
  
"Hey hang on a moment! "she exclaimed. "What about you Alan?"  
  
"What?" I asked in a voice that held a little too much innocence even for me to believe.  
  
"You that's what!" she berated me. "I promised I wasn't going to see anyone but as usual you never promised me anything."  
  
I felt the guilt rear up in me. I'd changed the subject on purpose. I loved her but I didn't want to give up the good time I was having in Colorado.  
  
"Aww Tin-Tin." I sighed, deciding to come clean. "I don't think we should be making those sorts of promises to each other when we're going to be so far apart."  
  
"Humph." she sniffed. "You mean YOU don't want to promise."  
  
She could see right through me. She always could. But I was confident if I gave her the freedom to choose, she wouldn't choose anyone over me. Me on the other hand…   
  
"No I mean you shouldn't commit yourself to me either." I said prepared to take the risk.   
  
The silence between us was awkward but both of us knew what I was saying was true.  
  
"And what happens after College?" she asked.  
  
I shrugged my shoulders. I hadn't even thought about what I was going to do after college. Well … I lie … I knew what I wanted to do but I knew Dad wasn't going to have a bar of it. Professional car-racing wasn't going to be an option and I knew I wouldn't win the argument because Dad had a secret weapon on his side.  
  
Grandma.  
  
"Car racing's dangerous and ridiculous waste of time." she said one night over Dinner when I was trying to drum up her support. "I didn't raise you for nineteen years to be left standing there grieving when you kill yourself for no good reason."  
  
So what I was going to do when I finished College I really didn't know. There was no way I was joining the Air Force so it was with real sincerity that I squeezed Tin-Tin's hand and replied.  
  
"Well ... let's just wait and see what happens huh?"   
  
The two of us looked into each other's eyes and almost simultaneously our lips began to move together. I think we would have shared our first real kiss at that moment had Dad and Kyrano not intervened.  
  
"You two look like you're having a nice chat out here." Dad said in an agreeable voice as the two of us broke apart.   
  
Poor Dad. He had no idea of what was developing and still believed things were the same as they were when the two of us were little.   
  
I looked at Tin-Tin Kyrano and then at my Father.  
  
"Yes Sir." I said. "Real nice."  
  
We didn't kiss each other that night and we didn't make the promise to be true to one another either and much to Grandma's disappointment and utter frustration the two of us parted as we had arrived.  
  
"Just friends."  
  
Tin-Tin returned to Oxford.  
  
I returned to Colorado.   
  
I was a changed person after that vacation. I still enjoyed the racing circuit but I knew I had to hit the books. Racing took a back seat. My Grades really improved.   
  
But as for the girls…  
  
I still had the freedom to see whoever I liked and I did for a while but in the bedroom it wasn't the same. I kept picturing Tin-Tin in the arms of another man. Whenever that happened, jealousy burned within me. I didn't want anyone else to experience that beautiful body before I did. I didn't want anyone else to kiss her before I did. I didn't want anyone else to have her full stop. When this happened I invariably sat down at my desk and wrote to her. I never told her I loved her in those letters but I think it was becoming pretty obvious. The other girls no long mattered to me.   
  
She was the only girl on my mind.  
  
A pretty Malaysian girl with a magical smile and the promise of a future life to come.  
  
INTERNATIONAL RESCUE  
  
Our final year passed all too quickly and it wasn't long before Dad and Grandma flew to Colorado to witness my graduation. Scott joined them and looked on with the same Fatherly satisfaction as Dad.  
  
Grandma carried on with her usual fuss and bother, becoming teary-eyed and saying how much she wished my Mother could have been there. Dad on the other hand wasn't thinking about Mom. He was looking at me with calculating eyes. He had something on his mind.  
  
He didn't tell me what it was until after we had flown to England for Tin-Tin's graduation. Tin-Tin was the valedictorian and Dad and Kyrano beamed with pride in her. I simply sat in the audience love-struck. She had been beautiful before, but she was really beautiful now.  
  
And I wanted her to be mine.  
  
After the graduation ceremony Tin-Tin was offered a position at the University. My heart sank when she told me she was going to accept it.  
  
"I'm only taking it for six months Alan." she said looking at my petulant face. "And then I'm coming home."  
  
"What's the point in taking something for only six months?" I complained. "Why not just come home now?"  
  
I reached out and took her hand in mind. "Tin-Tin I want you to come home with me."  
  
She shook her head and pulled her hand away.  
  
"There's a reason I can't." she said.  
  
At my perplexed look she added.  
  
"You."   
  
I frowned.  
  
"Me?" I exclaimed in surprise.  
  
She sighed and bit her lip.  
  
"Alan … last summer …"  
  
I looked at her as she struggled to find the words she wanted to say.   
  
"What about last Summer?" I asked.  
  
"You and me... on the beach" she said. "I …"  
  
She swallowed and looked into my eyes.   
  
"I ... I nearly kissed you."  
  
"I know. So what?" I said in my usual brash manner. "That's not such a big deal is it?"  
  
She started to walk away from me.  
  
"It is to me."   
  
I followed her across the lawns of the university like a puppy. As I said earlier, as far as I was concerned the struggle was over. I was hers. She only had to say she wanted to be mine.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I called after her as she continued to walk. She didn't answer. I reached out and spun her around to face me.  
  
"Tin-Tin?" I demanded. "What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?"  
  
She heaved a huge sigh and dropped her head.   
  
"You're what's wrong Alan." she said. "Don't you see? I can't come home … not until I sort out how I feel about you."  
  
I slipped my finger under her finely chiselled chin and lifted it to mine. My eyes searched hers.  
  
"And how do you feel?"   
  
Her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"I didn't think I felt anything until I saw you next to your Grandmother. I've been telling myself all year what happened on the beach was just a mix-up. Now you're here with your blonde good looks ... and I'm all mixed up again."  
  
"What do you mean you're mixed up?" I asked incredulously.  
  
She began to walk away again.  
  
"I left Tracy Island completely confused with how I felt about you Alan. You're supposed to be my friend."  
  
The words were an accusation, an allegation that I was to blame for what had started to happen between us the previous Summer.   
  
"I AM your friend." I interjected. "I've ALWAYS been your friend." I grasped her hand and ended the sentence quietly. "And I'll always BE your friend."  
  
Her beautiful features scanned mine.  
  
"Well why does it feel like we're not friends anymore?"  
  
I took both her hands in mine and searched her features in earnest.  
  
"We ARE friends." I assured her. "You're the best friend I ever had."  
  
"Well if I am you should be able to understand why I need six more months away from you."  
  
I released her hands.   
  
No I didn't understand. I wasn't forcing what was happening between us to happen. It was just … happening.  
  
"Alan I need to see other men if we're ever going to be more than friends." she said quietly. "I don't know what love feels like and I need to find out."  
  
Now I really didn't understand but as I said before, who the hell can understand women?  
  
"Ummm… OK …" I said in complete confusion. "I …I hope you don't mind if I see other women while you do then."  
  
Her beautiful brown eyes misted. I couldn't fool Tin-Tin.  
  
"And that isn't the case with you already?"  
  
Those words hurt me more than she'll ever know and I guess it took me until I felt that hurt to understand she had been hurting too. Listening to me brag about all my conquests in College when she felt something more must have been really hard. I thought I could say anything in front of my friend Tin-Tin but I guessed that wasn't the case anymore. Things had changed between us like she had said and I didn't know if I wanted that to happen.  
  
But now the two of us had agreed on the future.  
  
She was staying on in England; for six months anyway.   
  
I was going to race professionally.   
  
She was going to see other men.  
  
I was going to see other women.  
  
And then Dad dropped the bombshell on both of us…  
  
Tin-Tin Kyrano - Assistant Engineer.  
  
Alan Tracy - Astronaut.  
  
International Rescue.  
  
When Dad unveiled his plans for International Rescue I don't know how Tin-Tin felt but he sure as hell floored me. He'd been working on the project for three years and now that the last two members had graduated from College it was time to put it all together.  
  
My mouth fell open when he said he had asked Scott to leave the Air Force and come home. Scott had said yes. I shook my head with disbelief. Chief Pilot in Red Flag and he was giving it all up for Dad. Was he nuts?  
  
Then I realised Dad was serious. He continued on to say Gordon would be coming on board as the Aquanaut despite his injuries from the hydrofoil accident. He said he intended to ask John to leave NASA to be the other Astronaut and Virgil to resign in Denver.  
  
And my role?  
  
He told me he required me to attend a special accelerated learning programme he had arranged for me in NASA. This would be offset with training sessions with my brother John and himself. In short Dad needed two Astronauts and I was to be the second one.  
  
"I need you to apply yourself like you've never done before." he said. "You're young and intelligent and I need you Alan." he said. His eyes took on that far-away look he used to have all those years ago when he sat on my bed reading contracts waiting for me to go to sleep. "And you owe it to your Mother." he finished quietly. "I'm doing all of this for her and you son are the bravest thing she ever did for me."   
  
There's not much you can say to an offer when it's put to you like that is there? It was ironic really. Named after Astronaut Alan Shepard and the son of Astronaut Jefferson Tracy, nothing was further from my life plans than to become like either of them.  
  
But I guessed I owed my Mother. And I knew I really owed it to Dad.  
  
And there was one other great big incentive to accept.  
  
His new Assistant Engineer.  
  
Tin-Tin was now coming home.  
  
That was all the incentive I needed.  
  
The way it's all turned out couldn't be better for either of us.  
  
Or Grandma's plan.  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"So young man." a no-nonsense voice from behind me sounds out so it echoes right across the lounge room. "Where the heck were you and Tin-Tin hiding yourselves until now?"  
  
Dad frowns. Scott frowns.   
  
I redden.  
  
Kyrano frowns.  
  
Tin-Tin reddens.   
  
Grandma folds her arms and waits to hear what "excuse" I manage to come up with this time.  
  
"We were just catching up on things Grandma." I say innocently and with a shrug of the shoulders. "You know how it is."  
  
She gives me a mischievous look and says nothing.  
  
I suddenly remember Dad's lecture. He said I'd better apologise. I walk over and place my arm around Grandma's shoulders and kiss the top of her head.  
  
"Grandma." I begin. "Dad says I owe you an apology."  
  
Grandma looks at me.  
  
"You've owed me an apology from the very first day I carried out into this house Alan Tracy." she warns light-heartedly. "You've given me nothing but grief from the beginning, so don't think being late for my party is anything out of the ordinary."  
  
Dad's lecture rears up again. He said I was taking Grandma for granted.  
  
"I know ma'am." I reply kissing her again. "I just wouldn't want you to think I didn't appreciate you."  
  
I give her my Tracy smile. She hugs me and smiles back.  
  
"As if I'd ever think that about my favourite Grandson." she replies.  
  
Her eyes move around the room and come to rest on Tin-Tin.  
  
"That little girl of yours looks mighty pretty tonight." she begins.   
  
I shake my head and laugh at her.  
  
"Oh Grandma." I grin. "You're never going to give up are you?"  
  
"What do you mean?" she asks innocently.   
  
I tweak her nose and squeeze her tight.  
  
"Grandma your plan for the two of us is working OK? " I assure her. "Just give me a little more time."  
  
Now she's frowning and within seconds I'm being pushed out onto the balcony and the French doors are closing behind us.  
  
She folds her arms and looks me up and down.  
  
"What have I done now?" I ask her getting ready for the lecture.  
  
"It's what you haven't done." she retorts. "I'm seventy-five Alan Shepard Tracy and getting older in the tooth by the second. I don't have much longer for you to get your head together, admit to that little girl you love her and DO something about it."  
  
I look down at my Grandma in the darkness.   
  
If only she knew.  
  
Grandma, Tin-Tin does know I love her. I finally woke up to myself and admitted it to her a few weeks back. She told me she loves me as well. She finally admitted things too. And we have done something about it. The night we admitted we loved each other we took things further and she asked me to make love to her for the first time.   
  
So I have done something about it Grandma but I simply can't tell you about it. That isn't part of the plan.  
  
But I decide she deserves to see a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel.  
  
"Grandma." I begin. "If I tell you something, do you promise me on ten bibles not to tell anyone?"  
  
She looks me up and down.  
  
"You know how it works in this family." she replies. "The less said the better."  
  
Her eyes take on an expectant glow as I begin to speak.   
  
"Tin-Tin and me … are much more than friends now." I say carefully.  
  
"And?" she demands imperiously.  
  
I put my arms around my Grandma and begin to laugh.  
  
"AND Grandma … when there's more to tell you about our relationship than that, you'll be the first to know."   
  
She looks into my eyes as only Grandma can and proceeds to drop the bombshell.  
  
"That day is going to be sooner than you think if you're not careful young man." she warns.   
  
"You just mark my words."  
  
You know what?  
  
I've just realised Grandma has known all along.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Author's Note - This Story is set three weeks before the start of "Commitment". I guess Grandma was right!   
  
mcj  
  
And now the final series of Chapters commences in Tales of a Grandmother: - The Story of the Billionaire himself.  
  
NEXT CHAPTER - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE - PART 1 - JEFF TRACY -THE EARLY YEARS  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 


	15. CHAPTER 8 PART 1 WORDS OF WISDOM FROM ...

_Author's Note - Well we've heard from the Grandma, we've heard from the boys but until now the Billionaire has held his tongue. He's certainly going to speak now and he has more than just a few things to say too! Thanks to my friend Lady Viva for her wonderful help and encouragement. mcj_

__

**CHAPTER 8 - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE**

**JEFF TRACY - PART 1 - THE EARLY YEARS**

I look around the room fixing my eyes on each member of my wonderful family and can't help but feel a special kind of warmth and happiness well up within me.

This party was such a good idea and I'm glad I convinced the boys we should go through with it to celebrate Mother's seventy-fifth birthday. I know she's has been carrying on all night because we didn't level with her about what we were planning to do but deep down inside I know she is absolutely delighted with all the attention and is certainly making the most of it.

Lord knows what she's up to at the moment though. She hauled that youngest one of mine out onto the balcony over ten minutes ago like a woman possessed and the balcony doors are still closed. I wonder what he's done wrong to get her going this time.

As if I didn't know.

Mother knows Alan's sleeping with Tin-Tin Kyrano and the bottom line is that she wants him to marry her. She's grasping at straws there. That boy of mine has no intention of getting married and just for the record I know everything about what's going on between him and Miss Kyrano too. I also know from experience with Alan that there isn't too much common sense being applied when it's happening either. I only hope Tin-Tin has the sense to take enough precautions to protect the two of them. I can't afford to lose my Assistant Engineer to motherhood and the very thought of my youngest son becoming the Father of a child makes me break out in nothing less than what I'd describe as a nervous sweat.

All of that aside I really don't have the time or the inclination to be a Grandfather right now.

I have too much to do in International Rescue.

Mother on the other hand would think having a baby around here was absolutely wonderful and whilst she hasn't actually been bold enough to say she approves of what's going on between Alan and Tin-Tin, I know she does. She's used every devious trick known to man to get them this far believe me and she's not going to stop now.

However let me tell you right now I'm certainly not happy about what's going on between them and I'm not apologising for the fact that I'm not either.

Unfortunately there's nothing much I can do about things; that is of course as long as it doesn't affect their work for me. If it does or their little midnight soirees start to affect their performance in International Rescue I'll be having more than just something to say about it then believe you me.

But until then I'll be biting my tongue and pretending to go along with their little charade. Oh yes, didn't I tell you? The two of them assure me they're "just friends". I guess I can buy it when they both disappear down onto the beach together for hours on end but please ... when I call her on her wrist communicator at three o'clock in the morning and my son is snoring his head off in the background, it's pretty damned obvious they're a couple.

However as I said before, I'll just keep biting my tongue. And do you know why? I can't believe I'm admitting this to anyone but the only reason why is because my mother won't allow me to do anything else.

As she constantly points out, Alan and Tin-Tin are consenting adults and whenever I open my mouth to argue, she reminds me of a similar statement I made to Dad when Lucy first moved in with me in Houston. She takes a great deal of pleasure in reminding me that when Lucy and I started ... err... "co-habitating" together I refused to listen to anything Dad had to say about it.

"You hotheadly told your Father to keep his objections to himself, mind his own business and allow you to get on with yours." she recites remembering my argument with Dad word for word.

"Therefore Jeff." she adds like she's won some massive victory over me after nearly thirty years. "Don't expect young Alan to listen to any of your objections either."

Well she's right there at least. Alan never listens to anything I tell him objections or otherwise. That boy honestly thinks I don't know what he's up to and one day I swear I'm going to floor him and make it very clear that I do.

But like his four older brothers he thinks I'm just "dear old Dad"; a middle aged man who sits behind his desk in the lounge room day after day totally oblivious to everything.

If only the five of them knew how much I actually I do know about what they've gotten up to over the years they wouldn't be half as relaxed as they are right now.

Take Scott for example. I look at him leaning on the piano talking to Virgil. He thinks I don't know he ditched his Jet Fighter in the ocean when he was in the Air Force. I can't believe he thinks I wouldn't know about that. I'm Jeff Tracy for goodness sake. I know everything that happens in the Air Force and have done for years. My buddy Jack Roach who went into space with me runs the whole darned outfit. He often seeks my opinion on things and we've stayed in close contact ever since I resigned from the Forces. He was the one who happened to mention a certain Captain Scott Carpenter Tracy made an error of judgement whilst out on manoeuvres over the Atlantic. He also happened to mention the same Captain Scott Carpenter Tracy received a mighty big dressing down over it too.

Well I've been waiting for four years for Captain Scott Carpenter Tracy to finally come clean and tell me about his little faux pas but he's never said a word. Obviously wrecking a million dollar jet fighter doesn't rate too highly in importance when you're talking to your Father about what you've been up to during the week. But one day I'm going to inform my eldest son I know all about what happened and have done for quite a few years.

I move my eyes a little to the left and look at my second boy; young Virgil. I still feel my throat catch and my stomach tighten whenever Virgil's involved. He is so like his Mother it cuts my emotions to the bone, especially tonight looking at him in that chestnut brown sweater which accentuates his unique colouring and beautiful brown eyes.

But unlike Lucy who always told me everything, Virgil tells me very little about what he's up to and what he thinks. He has no idea I knew about his paintings hidden up in the attic and that I've known about them all along. He also has no idea I have spent more than my fair share of time up there over the years looking at them and shedding silent tears over his Mother.

But when Mother called me over and told me about the paintings tonight I pretended I didn't know a thing about them. I know Lucy wouldn't approve of me lying like that. She would have wanted me to admit I knew. We always had differing opinions on how to handle Virgil's sensitive personality and I still believe I know best. So as far as I'm concerned it was a revelation to me that he's been painting his Mother's picture, writing songs for her and storing them in the attic for the past twenty years. I never knew a thing and that's the way it will stay.

Then I look over at the fourth one ... my red-haired rascal with the honey brown eyes. At the moment he's having a conversation with Kyrano. Watch out my friend; there's probably a hidden agenda behind Gordon's polite attention to your words. More than likely he's planning yet another practical joke to liven up Mother's birthday Dinner, something I might say is rather overdue thanks to his last prank in the kitchen. I have never seen so much foam leave a fire extinguisher in my entire life. And for what? So I didn't go upstairs and walk in on his brother and Miss Kyrano that's what.

That boy is such a handful. He was a handful when he decided to make an early entrance into the world and a handful when he nearly made an early exit out of it. And if you want to know the honest truth he's been a handful every other day in between! He's always been mischievous like his mother and one of these days I'm going to let on to that young man that I know all about what he and Jezzica Parker got up to two years ago in the middle of my king-sized bed. I might have been preoccupied with my business but I certainly know when someone's been "sleeping" in my bed. Gordon thinks I don't know the two of them were together in there and that I know for a fact there would be only one reason why they were in there too!

Let's face it when a man's slept alone for as many years as I have and suddenly there's long blonde hair on one pillow and signature red hair on the other, it doesn't take too much imagination to work out what's been going on in your absence.

I look towards the window.

There's my precious Johnny looking up at the universe.

John thinks I don't know how much he still misses his mother and because I can't bring myself to talk to any of the boys about Lucy, he thinks I don't miss her anymore. He's so wrong about that. I more than anyone know how torn up he still feels inside about her death because I feel exactly the same way he does. The knot I have in my stomach hasn't gone away in over twenty years and I'm sure John's got a great big one in his stomach too. We just don't talk about it. He can't and I know I can't either.

John's such an articulate and perceptive boy and it shows right now in the silent conversation I know he's having with the evening star as it sparkles in the centre of the night sky. John thinks I don't know he still finds comfort in the star he attached himself to when his mother died, but I do know.

And I can't bring myself to say anything.

Being a Father isn't an easy job. Being a good Father is harder still. And being a single Father is the hardest job of all.

But thanks to mother I think I've managed to do a reasonable job and in the process raised five wonderful sons, each of them a credit to their mother and to me and all of them unique in their own right.

It's been hard but worth every single minute of it. All the boys have varying degrees of Lucy's mischief in them and as a result they have made life rather difficult for me at times. Believe me their antics have set my hand itching for my belt on more than one occasion over the years let me tell you.

But despite the ups and downs of being a single Dad, raising my sons has taken me on one incredible journey through life over the past twenty-one years.

It's a journey which began when my Lucy died unexpectedly and I fell apart right in front of their eyes.

It's a journey which faltered until I got my head together and began to cope on my own.

It's a journey which continues today with the six of us stronger and closer together than ever.

And the reason we are so close is because of the love and determination of a wonderful woman. A woman to whom the value of family means more than anything else on this earth.

That woman is Josephine Alice Tracy.

My mother.

I owe my mother more than I can ever repay her in a thousand life-times for everything she's done for the boys and me since Lucy died.

She's been the mother, friend and counsellor to this family for twenty-one years and no-one appreciates it more than I do. She took a shattered young man and his five frightened little boys under her wing and despite terrible odds and dreadful sadness kept us together as a family.

So, tonight over Dinner I intend to tell you a little about my mother, the things she's done good and bad, and how much she means to me.

I also intend to surprise her with something I promised to give her back a long time ago. It's taken me twenty-one years to fulfil that promise and it hasn't been easy to do it either.

I suppose you want to know what that something is but I'm not going to tell you just yet. Not until I tell my side of the story. God knows what Mother's said about me and I want to set the record straight before I do anything else tonight.

I might also let a few things slide about what I know about those young men of mine that they think I "don't know".

I think it would be good for them to realise that "Dear old Dad" is not as silly as they think.

And for years he's been turning a blind eye too.

**Stage One - Life on the Farm**

People who know me will essentially tell you that Mr. Jefferson Grant Tracy is a billionaire. He's an astute businessman who made his money from engineering and new technology and heads the massive corporation known as "Tracy Enterprises".

That's essentially true.

However people who've known me a little longer will recall when Major Jefferson Grant Tracy pioneered the World Space Agency rocket into space and walked holding the American flag on the moon in the first stages of colonisation. He was an Astronaut with a Master's degree in engineering and a NASA commission which demanded he quickly embrace new technology.

Those people who go back further than that will remember the days when Lieutenant Jefferson "JT" Tracy flew his F-16 in Red Flag. He was a young Air Force pilot with a need for speed, a love of combat and an arrogant belief he was invincible in the air. Sure he was happy studying Engineering and new technology was an interesting diversion but there was only thing that really mattered to him.

Emerging victorious from a dog fight. In that he truly was invincible. It not only earned him respect in the Air Force but landed him his coveted NASA Commission at only twenty four years of age.

But very few people know the real Jefferson Tracy.

You see Jefferson Grant Tracy is a wheat farmer who hails from a small county in the state of Kansas. It's not something I care to dwell upon these days but it's realistically where my life and my passion for flight began. Hard to believe? Well it's true. I decided I wanted to fly as I ploughed the wheat fields of Kansas day after day after day.

I know I can operate any of the Thunderbird Craft at maximum speed. I know I can pilot a moon rocket. I know I can fly an Air Force Fighter Jet at suicidal speed. I know I can command a Red Flag squadron like a master.

But I also know I can drive a Tractor with both hands tied behind my back, bale hay like an expert and calculate exactly when and where to plant and take off a summer wheat crop with pin-point accuracy.

And I know I can because I was taught by the best.

My Daddy.

And it is with my Daddy that my story begins.

I was born the only son of Grant Daniel Tracy and his pretty young wife Josephine.

Dad was a fifth generation wheat farmer.

The Tracy family had its roots in Kansas and had farmed our one thousand acres for well over one hundred and fifty years. The Tracy men were good Farmers, resilient, efficient and productive. They were simple men with a love of family and a love of life.

Times were good for decades. The Tracy name meant money in the District and while the farm thrived so did the family.

The Tracy wives produced the children, always sons, and the sons followed on the tradition of the farm.

Times grew lean when my Grandfather was alive. The drought in Kansas was relentless in those years and it became impossible to produce crops of the same size and quality as before. Grandpa fell deeper and deeper in debt as he continued to try.

My Father inherited the farm when it was at its worst. At the time he was desperately in love with the Bank Manager's daughter Miss Josephine Alice Brown.

Now I have to say something right here and now. When my Father started to get serious about Josephine Brown he obviously didn't read her the position description of what being a Tracy wife entailed. Up until mother came along, all the women in the Tracy family had been quiet, retiring young women who supported their husbands and tended to the home.

Not mother.

She was one feisty individual and still is if you haven't guessed it for yourself by now.

She doesn't say too much about her courtship with Dad but from what I gather it was a rocky one because of the money situation and in the end she was instrumental in the two of them getting married.

Why doesn't that surprise me? Mother's been interfering in everything for years so I'm sure she had to get her basic training in somewhere.

She was also instrumental in turning around their fortunes. I guess being the Bank Manager's daughter helped but from what I understand she encouraged Dad to move away from the family tradition of only growing wheat and started to keep chickens and a few animals around. She grew her own vegetables, baked her own bread and made their life quite self-sufficient.

All Dad had to do was farm the crop and she took care of the rest. And as life is when you are a Farmer some of the years they experienced were good, others not so good.

It was into a world where the seasons controlled our fortunes that I was born.

I was the first son and as it turned out, the only son. Dad was an only son too and he had it in his head that once the Tracy name was able to be passed on to the next generation, there was no room for any more children.

Hence I grew up a much loved little boy but a very lonely one. I would have loved a brother to knock around the Farm with even if it was only to shoulder the burden of Dad's unrealistic expectations, but unfortunately that was not meant to be. I swore even when I was young that whenever I married, I was going to raise at least three children. That was the first of my differences of opinion with my Father.

Dad was a very strong minded man and he was determined to instil the values of good clean living into me. He worked very hard and valued everything he had. He made me work hard beside him so I valued it too. He taught me the importance of family and set me a faultless example in how he treated his own. Dad might have been tough and cynical but he loved and treated my mother like a Princess.

He told me once his own Father had made him promise he would always treat Mother that way and warned whenever I found myself a wife he expected me to do the same. Dad also said the engagement ring Mother wears used to belong to my Grandma and there's a very special story of love attached to how she managed to get it. He told me I should ask her to tell me about it one day. Come to think of it I never have. I might do that later on. The boys might like to hear one of her stories. If she was involved with what happened anything is possible.

I was educated at the local school and progressed through to High School where I worked hard during the day and studied my heart out in the evenings. Before and after school I helped Dad on the farm and during the vacations when most of my friends left Kansas with their families to see different parts of America I stayed home, driving the tractor and tending to the crop.

Needless to say as the years went on I became acutely aware of the fact that I was missing out on something. My friends returned from vacations full of stories of big cities, wonderful beaches and fabulous experiences. My world only extended from one side of a picket fence to another and if Dad would have had his way that was the way it would always stay.

I remember asking Dad once why we didn't go on vacations like everybody else. It was when I was around fifteen. I still see Dad's face. He certainly wasn't amused.

"I haven't had a vacation in my whole forty-one years of livin' Jefferson." he said sternly. "There ain't any room in your life for vacations when you're a wheat farmer."

He paused, looked me fully in the face and added.

"And the sooner you learn to accept that, the better off you'll be."

That was my Dad all right. He loved me very much but he was one direct man.

Mother told me the vacations my friends bragged about weren't really all they were cracked up to be. She reminisced about when she was a teenager and used to take vacations with her parents and two younger sisters.

"If you want the honest truth we always came home needing a vacation Jeff." she said. "So you're not missing out on anything sweetheart. Honest."

However her eyes took on a distant look before she added. "Even so it sure would be nice to see the beach again."

I think about where the two of us live now in this beautiful island paradise and smile at the memory of those poignant words.

I wasn't long before I entered my last year of High School and as the year wore on I, like everyone else in my class, began to give some serious thought to my future.

I stupidly believed that like my High school friends I would have a choice about where my life was going to take me.

Boy was I ever wrong about that.

A few of my friends were entering the military but most were going on to College in Kansas City. I was a little torn in both directions. I wanted to study Engineering in College and certainly had the Grades to do it but I'd also been fascinated with flight since I was young. This had pointed me in the direction of the Air Force and I was very enthusiastic when the Air Force Recruitment Officers visited our town and showed me what opportunities were available.

But Dad's highly anticipated crop failed late in my senior year and one night he called me out on the porch of our old farmhouse and told me point blank that I wasn't going to be able to go anywhere the following year. He simply couldn't afford to send me to College and even if he could he needed me to help him with the new crop. He was adamant he didn't want to get back into debt again "after busting his goddamn ass to get out of it" as he so bluntly put it and it was my responsibility as his son to back him up.

My heart fell as he broke the news. I appreciated he couldn't afford to send me to College and didn't intend to argue about that but I at least hoped he would allow me to enlist in the Air Force. I certainly didn't want to stay on at the Farm and tend to a fledgling crop which was at the mercy of the next seasonal disaster.

I opened my mouth to say so but as I did he said.

"A man works his fingers to the bone for a whole year to provide for his family and ends up with nothin' at the end of it. It just ain't right."

I remained silent and watched him as he looked out over the farm.

"Still as your momma says there's always next year." he said trying to reassure himself.

I nodded my head.

I knew my duty simply by his tone. I guessed I would be staying.

"Yes Sir. We'll have better luck next year." I said dutifully and resigned myself to my fate.

I told myself it didn't matter. College would still be there and so would the Air Force. It was only for one year and I wasn't eighteen yet.

But I couldn't fool my mother. She followed me into my room later in the evening and rested an apologetic hand on my shoulder.

"Jeff." she said. "I'm sorry Daddy had to ask you to do this sweetie. I know how hard you've studied so you could leave the farm and make something of yourself."

You see even at seventeen I knew I didn't want to be a Farmer and even though I had never said a word to either of my parents, Mother knew it too.

And for the next two years she watched me work in silent frustration under my Father's direction. You see as it turned out it wasn't only for one year. When the second year came around, things were still bad and Dad told me I had to stay on again.

I told myself again it didn't matter. College would still be there and so would the Air Force. It was only for another year and I wasn't nineteen yet.

But mother knew I tended the crop only because Dad said I had to. She knew I drove the tractor from morning until night only because Dad said it was my job to do it. She watched me rise at dawn and work until dusk seven days a week because I was Grant Tracy's son.

She knew how much I hated it and whilst I didn't realise it showed she saw the unhappiness in my eyes day after day.

She watched from a distance as I sat alone on the porch looking at the sky and wishing I was someplace else.

She knew I wasn't working for my Father because I wanted to.

She knew I was doing it because Dad expected me to.

But she loved Dad and didn't know what the heck to do about the situation.

Her apologetic hand touched my shoulder again.

"Jeff." she said. "I wish I could find the words to make your Daddy understand. But I can't."

Being expected to take over the family farm.

That was the second and biggest of my differences of opinion with my Father.

My third difference of opinion came with Dad's expectation I would find myself a girl and settle down.

"I started dating your momma when she was eighteen." he said. "I married her when she was twenty two. You need to be lookin' around for a nice young lady soon and thinkin' about doin' the same."

I listened to him in silence. At nineteen I wanted to point out that just because he did something that suited him didn't mean I should be expected to do it too.

But I was a Tracy son and Tracy sons did what their Fathers told them to do.

So I said nothing.

I dated a couple of girls to keep him off my back but none of them had what I was looking for in a wife. That was one thing I did find the courage to tell my Father. He frowned and asked me what the heck I WAS looking for. I took the only safe way I knew to get myself out of that one.

"I want to marry someone like Momma." I replied knowing full well that would settle him down.

His face softened as he turned to look at her.

"You'll never find anyone like your momma." he smiled in adoration. "They don't make women like her any more."

Mother blushed and kissed him on the cheek and luckily for my sake the whole situation was diffused.

But my differences of opinion with my Father bubbled underneath my silent obedience.

Until one night he overheard me discussing my unhappiness with Mother and everything came to a head.

I pride myself on being considered somewhat of a brave human being but the night I faced my Father and admitted I wanted a career in the Air Force was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. My Father had worked his whole life on the farm and had made tremendous sacrifices over the years to keep it afloat. He simply didn't understand why I didn't want to do the same thing. I still remember how I felt when his dark blue eyes turned black and his chin lifted in anger. My mouth went dry and I began to shake at what he would say and do to me for daring to dream of having a different life. I cringed and waited to be told I would do as I was told to do and I think I would have been except for the timely intervention of my Mother.

Mother had a way with Dad and his complete and utter love for her stood her (and me) in good stead that night. She suggested a compromise. She'd help him around the farm if need be and I could do four years in the service before returning. Dad wasn't keen but he begrudgingly agreed under her "gentle" persuasion. I was ecstatic. He'd only agreed to four years but the way I figured it four years was better than nothing.

And so I left my family home to begin my career in the Air Force.

Dad's last words to me were. "Boy, you're a Tracy son. Keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble."

Mother's last words were. "Follow your dreams my darling ... and fly."

**Stage Two - The Career Man**

From the very first day I took control of a jet fighter I knew I had found my niche in the world. Nothing I had ever dreamed of came close to the feeling I experienced as I soared into the air and saw the world for the first time as I wanted to see it. Not sitting on a tractor with dust on my face and the sun at my back but from up in the sky above the clouds where I knew I belonged.

My basic training at the Academy in Colorado had been hard and I watched as a lot of young men fell by the wayside but I gritted my teeth and stuck it out. To me, even the misery of basic training was better than working morning until dusk on the farm. I was trained in my chosen field as a Pilot and after my first test flight my Commander was very keen for me to commence an Engineering degree. I didn't know why and nobody told me, but the truth of the matter I believe was that I was recognised as having a lot of talent. I was keen to embrace everything I could in the four years my Father had agreed to let go of me so I gladly took the opportunity to study too.

Naturally improving my flying skills during the day and studying hard in the evenings didn't leave me a lot of time to socialise so I was never really what you would call "one of the fellas". In some ways I think I was lucky. The guys went out on Saturday nights and got themselves drunk, got themselves a woman and quite a few of them "got themselves an unexpected family." I could imagine Dad if that would have happened to me.

Don't get me wrong I certainly dated women when I was in the Air Force but I guess Dad raised me to respect them a little bit more than some of my buddies. I was certainly no innocent when it came to physical love believe me but I didn't make a habit of trying to find it every time I left the base.

I obtained my Engineering degree in three years and continued to spread my wings in the Force.

Flight was my passion and I had become mighty good at it in a very short time. I pushed myself to the limit and had such a faith in my own ability I held no fear of anything. I was the first to volunteer for special missions and the last fighter back on the ground. I loved it and thrived on the rush it gave me.

As you can imagine with all the flying I was doing I got my certifications out of the way fast and was given more and more freedom in the air. I don't know how it happened but all of a sudden wherever I went I seemed to have one hell of a reputation as a pilot.

I was promoted to Lieutenant and not long after unexpectedly offered a place in Red Flag. If you have ever experienced the feeling of obtaining the ultimate in your life you'll know how I felt when my Commander called me into his Office, stood me to attention and then gave me the news. I swear my feet walked on nothing but air for the next twenty four hours I was so thrilled I was considered to be good enough.

Red Flag.

The dream of every pilot in the Air Force.

To dog fight with the best.

Naturally my elevation to the squadron after only just over three years in the Force put quite a few people in the ranks off side. It never ceases to amaze me how human beings seem to resent others especially when I lived my Father's parting advice to "keep my nose clean" each and every day. I had honestly never done anything to anyone but somehow in doing "nothing" I managed to put one man off side completely.

Captain Randy Davis.

He resented me with a passion.

Davis was the star of Red Flag and to give him his due he was simply the most awesome Pilot I had ever seen. I had a great deal of respect for him and when I was invited into the squadron I made it very clear to him that I did. It was a pity he didn't afford me the same courtesy. He was very unhappy I had been promoted to Red Flag and made his feelings pretty well known right from day one.

He pushed me around and made sarcastic comments about my background every opportunity he got. I've got a pretty even temper on me and it takes a lot to get me riled up about anything but after a while even I started to see red. The other guys said to ignore him. They said he did it to everyone who entered the squadron and it was kind of like an initiation he put everyone through. So I took their advice and copped it on the nose. I was used to saying nothing about how I felt when I was on the farm so it wasn't too difficult.

However my quiet courtesy towards him only seemed to upset him further and the very first exercise I took part in he made a point of cornering me in front of his buddies when I was suiting up to fly.

"You really think you're somethin' special don't you Tracy?" he sneered into my face.

"No Sir." I replied respectfully.

"Yeah you do Kansas boy."

"No I don't Sir." I responded. "I don't think I'm anyone."

He grabbed me by the collar much to the complete delight of his audience.

"Ten years it took me to get to the top in this outfit Tracy." he said in a threatening voice. "And I ain't about to be grounded today by some half smart assed little Farmer boy who calls himself a pilot. You got that?"

"Yes Sir I got it." I said in an even tone.

He pushed me away from him and went to swagger off.

"I warnin' you Lieutenant, you ain't got a chance in hell up there against me." he mocked.

I continued to put on my helmet and before my face disappeared I simply gave him a cocky smile.

"Maybe you're right about that Sir but let's wait and see how it turns out in the air."

With that Captain Randy Davis strode out of the hangar in absolute fury, boarded his signature black aircraft and jetted from the tarmac with only one thing on his mind. Not to lead the Aggressor squadron in an attack against the defence. The bastard only wanted to ground me.

And it was a damn sweet moment when I emerged at the end as the lead pilot in the Defence squadron ... and grounded him.

It was one hell of a dog fight and I nearly had to ditch my jet twice in the middle of it but in the end Davis got what was coming to him and I licked that ignorant bastard's ass for all it was worth.

All I'd wanted from him was mutual respect. What I eventually got in the months that followed was his Squadron leader's position in Red Flag.

However unbeknown to me, not only did I earn the respect of the whole squadron in how I had conducted myself around Davis but two Colonels from NASA had watched our dog fights with avid interest. NASA was considering Randy Davis for a place in the next space programme. They left considering me.

Time marched on and two months after my dust up with Davis I realised the four years my Father had agreed to give me to get flying out of my system was over and he would be expecting me to go home.

And I couldn't. An interview with my Commander soon cleared that up. I owed the Air Force for my education, he said, and I was expected to stay at least another four years.

Besides that, I really didn't want to go home.

I telephoned my Mother to ask for advice.

"Momma I'm expected to re-enlist for another four years and to be quite honest I want to sign up for longer." I admitted. "Flying is all I want to do in my life and that's all there is to it."

Mother of course said with her usual directness.

"Well of course it's all you want to do with yourself Jeff. I know that too."

There was silence on the telephone.

"But your Father won't buy it."

When I didn't reply she added.

"And I'm sure as hell not tellin' him either if that's what you think I'm going to do."

Mother always did everything she could for me but she drew the line there. Our conversation continued and she made it very clear that if I had to re-enlist in the Air Force for another four years I would have to be the one to break the news. And she wouldn't entertain me telling him over the telephone.

"You have the courage to look him in the face and tell him yourself." she insisted. "You at least owe him the courtesy of that."

"OK Momma." I acknowledged. "I guess you're right."

I applied for leave of absence quietly confident Dad would understand. I had kept him informed of my achievements and whilst he'd never openly enthused about them I knew he was pleased I was doing so well. I decided I'd tell him about the dog-fights with Davis knowing he'd get a kick out of hearing about them. Once I did that I'd tell him I had to re-enlist for four years and intended to sign up for eight. I was sure he'd let me if I could convince him I had a future.

My resolve to do as I pleased grew as the open wheat fields of Kansas returned to my sight. Memories of my mundane, unhappy life reared up in my memory. I did not want to return here. I did not want to leave the Air Force and take over the farm. At twenty three I knew what I wanted in my life and sitting on that bus looking at the never-ending miles of flat farming land I decided even if Dad didn't agree with me, I wasn't going to back down.

I guess Mother's already told you about what happened between Dad and me but she probably only knows Dad's side of the story. I left before I told her too much about mine.

Sadly it all started harmlessly enough when I arrived home. After Mother stopped fussing over me and crying at the sight of me in my uniform I looked apprehensively towards the fields.

"If you're looking for your Daddy, he'll be up to have his lunch soon." she said. "Now you watch what you say and when you say it young man. I've got to live with him. You don't.'"

I made a point of taking her advice and when Dad came into the house he smiled from ear to ear and shook my hand firmly.

"You're lookin' wonderful son." were his amiable words as he looked me up and down. "Gotten taller too I swear."

I smiled at him and told him I had gotten broader in the shoulders since the last time I'd seen him but I certainly wasn't growing anymore.

He pondered on that and reached into the refrigerator to find us both a beer.

"Hmmph a man must be shrinkin' then if that's the case."

The three of us had a very pleasant lunch together and Dad listened with great interest when I told him about my dust up with Randy Davis.

"Every man should make a point of respectin' another." he nodded gravely. "The fact that men don't Jeff is one of the problems we got in this stupid world."

That was the moment I should have told him. When he uttered those words I should have said I needed him to respect me as a man too and allow me to stay in the Air Force.

But I didn't.

I foolishly waited until he was back in his beloved wheat field before I broke the news. That was singularly the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life.

After lunch I offered to do the dishes and once that was done I changed out of my uniform and into my normal clothes. After a nervous glance at Mother who was sitting on the back porch sewing, I headed towards the Barn to get Dad's tractor and take it down to the back field.

The back field; the place where everything momentous in our lives seemed to take place.

Dad had proposed to Mother there.

Dad had told me the facts of life there.

It was now about to be the place I broke Dad's heart and told him I wasn't prepared to give up my Air Force career to take over the farm.

The word momentous pales into insignificance when I think about what happened between Dad and me in the hour it took to stand in that field and break the news to him.

At first he thought I was kidding.

I was a Tracy son.

His son.

He had mapped my life out for me from the day I was born.

I was almost twenty four now he said and I needed to settle down.

He said I needed to find myself a wife, update my farming skills and move in the direction he'd laid out for me.

He re-iterated I needed to come home now and take over the farm.

"I want to slow down a bit Jeff." he said firmly, still believing I didn't mean what I was saying. "I'm forty-nine and startin' to feel every minute of it."

His dark blue eyes burrowed into mine.

"And you know as well as I do that for me to slow down you have to take on the responsibility around here."

"I know Dad." I replied, carefully feeling my way. "But ..."

I paused. I loved my Father from the bottom of my heart and I didn't want to hurt him for all the money in the world. But I knew there was no easy way to say what I wanted to say.

So I held his gaze, something I had never done before, swallowed my nerves and continued.

"I don't want to Sir."

I never realised what a deadly quiet place our back wheat field was until that deathly moment.

I looked at Dad. He looked at me.

And there was silence.

Finally the words left his mouth.

"What the hell do you mean you don't want to?"

There was a dangerous bite to every word. The familiar dread I felt whenever I angered my Father returned to the pit of my stomach. You didn't cross Dad. You did what he said when he said it and that was that.

But not this time.

"Daddy ..." I began and immediately cursed myself for being weak. I always called him that when he got the better of me.

I stopped myself.

I was twenty-three.

I was a man.

I was entitled to do what I wanted with my life.

"Dad." I began again. "It's like this. I'm a different person to the one who left here four years ago."

His eyes still had not left mine and in them I saw a quiet rage smouldering. Dad couldn't hide his temper when it got the better of him and it was clearly starting to get the better of him now.

"I ... I am Dad." I stammered.

He continued to survey me in silence.

"All right explain what the heck's different about you then?" he growled. "You've already said you ain't any taller. Lost your faith in God boy is that it?"

I was immediately on the back foot when he bought God into it.

"No Sir." I quavered.

"Well have you lost your values?" he fired back.

"No Sir." I quavered again.

"Have you lost your love of your momma and me?"

"No Sir." I quavered a third time.

He moved forward menacingly and grasped me by the arm.

"Well you ain't no different to the way you were before you left here so don't feed me any of your rubbish boy."

All of a sudden the words erupted from deep within me.

"Dad I've lost the desire to follow in your footsteps that's what I've lost." I blurted loudly. "And hell Sir if you want the honest truth I never had the desire to follow in them in the first place."

I lowered my eyes in sheer panic. I couldn't believe I'd finally said what I'd been thinking my whole entire life. I don't think Dad could believe I said it either. He stood in a stunned silence.

"I'm sorry to be so disrespectful to you Daddy but it's simply the way I feel." I finished in a low voice.

"Look at me boy." he commanded in a tone he had never used before. I nervously complied.

Dad's eyes were jet black and one look at him told me he was about to explode.

"I'm gonna forget I heard you say that to me Jefferson because I know you know you the way things are around here." he rumbled, the words whistling through his clenched teeth. "I've worked these goddamn fields from morning until dusk, seven days a week for more years than I care to remember so I could provide for you and give you a decent education."

"Daddy ...I... I know ..." I began to stammer but there was no way he was going to give me the right of reply.

"I might remind you there were things your Momma should have had that she didn't get because I had to pay for somethin' to do with you. Six winters ago she needed a coat and not because she wanted one either but because her old one was fallin' apart in front of my eyes."

"Daddy ..." I tried to interrupt.

"A God-damned lousy coat Jefferson. "he shouted. "And you must remember when I told her she had to go without it so I could buy you books."

"Daddy I know what sacrifices you and Momma have made for me over the years and I truly appreciate them." I said sincerely. "But Sir ..."

"Well why don't you start showin' your appreciation for once and do what you were brought into this world to do." he barked.

"Brought into this world to do?" I gasped. "Daddy this is my life I'm talkin' about."

"And that's exactly what I'm talkin' about too." he snapped, his eyes still fixed on mine. "I fathered you to replace me on this farm Jefferson and let me tell you right now boy that's exactly what you're gonna do."

Those words angered me beyond reason.

The argument really started then and Dad and I yelled at each other at the tops of our lungs for nearly an hour. In the end I had to walk away from it. He wasn't going to listen to me no matter what I said. He didn't want to hear I wanted to fly. He didn't want to hear I had ambitions to lead and command.

He didn't want to hear anything if it didn't mean I was coming home to take over the farm.

As I turned my back on him to leave he roared at me.

"You owe this family Jefferson. You owe me and your Momma."

I turned back and looked into the face of the man who had given me life. The man who had raised me. The man who had taught me to live within my means and to be grateful for everything I had. The man who had taught me to respect my elders and love my family.

The man who now wanted me to be like him...and I simply didn't want to be.

The tone of my voice lowered.

"I'm sorry to say this to you Daddy but I didn't ask you to bring me into this world." I heard myself say. "And you were supposed to do the things you did for me out of responsibility."

The two of us eyeballed each other before I had the last word for the first time in my life.

"Yes I do owe you Sir but I only owe you my love and respect." I said bluntly. "That's all Daddy ... and I know you don't like what you're hearing right now but I'm afraid that's the way it's going to be."

With that I left my devastated Father standing in the wheat fields and returned to the farmhouse to get my things. Given what had happened between us I knew it would be better if I left before something else was said to make things worse.

Mother allowed me to go but not without pointing out that I should not be walking away from my Father in anger. Fathers and sons needed each other she said and I needed to think about that very carefully before estranging myself from Dad over something as trivial as this.

"That man out there is one of the finest and most decent men God ever breathed life into son." she said gravely. "And he loves you very, very much."

"But Momma ... if he loved me he'd listen to me." I frowned.

"No Jeff, Daddy's not going to listen because he doesn't understand. "she sighed. "But nothing will ever change the love he feels for you in his heart sweetheart, believe me."

Yeah well I had my doubts about that as I sat on the bus thinking about the things he'd said to me. I knew he'd only said them in anger and disappointment but he'd said them all the same.

My ambitions were nothing more than stupid dreams. Flying would never achieve anything for anyone. I owed it to him to take over the farm.

I lifted my chin in defiance.

I desperately wanted my Father to be proud of me but if he couldn't be I guessed I had to learn to live with it. In turn he would have to learn to live with the fact that I intended to follow my dreams and re-enlist in the Air Force.

Standing up to Dad that day was hard but as it turned out it was definitely the right thing to do.

You see two weeks after we argued over my decision to re-enlist in the Air Force I was offered the chance of a lifetime.

Space.

The unknown.

Blackness and mystery where few men ever had the opportunity to venture.

And there I was, now twenty four years of age standing to attention in front of General Casey from NASA and General Blake from the Air Force, listening to something I had never dared to dream about.

They wanted me to be one of them.

NASA was offering me a place as an Astronaut in the next Space Programme. They told me I had been very carefully scrutinised by both NASA and the Air Force over the past twelve months. They added they'd liked what they'd seen. They noted I possessed an Engineering Degree and was working on my Masters. They noted I had been taught to fly by the academy.

"But it takes more than the Air Force Academy to teach a man to fly like you can Lieutenant." General Casey said briskly. "I've never seen anyone handle themselves in the air like you do and I've seen quite a few talented pilots in my time."

I coloured.

"I'm only one of many in Red Flag Sir." I said modestly.

"I don't think so Lieutenant." he said firmly. "As far as I'm concerned you are outstanding and NASA needs talent like yours in the space programme."

I remember being so overcome I could hardly bring myself to speak.

I was being elevated to NASA.

It just refused to sink into my head.

NASA.

It was too good to be true.

NASA.

The word and the prestige associated with it echoed over and over in my head.

The questions began.

Did I understand the long and difficult road ahead of me? Was I aware it would be six years before the mission would come to fruition? Did I understand the expectations of being a part of the NASA Space Programme? Did I acknowledge the need for diplomacy at all times in representing the United States of America?

And lastly... was I prepared to accept the place on the understanding my skills as a pilot would be tested like they had never been tested before and the eyes of the world would be upon me.

"Yes I am Sir." I said without hesitation.

"Good Lieutenant." drawled General Casey trying hard to conceal his elation. "In that case you will be given your orders regarding Houston. These will include you leaving the Air Force by the end of year."

He extended his hand.

"Welcome aboard Lieutenant."

I shook his hand firmly but still completely dazed.

General Blake looked on with satisfaction and extended his hand too.

"I for one will miss your entertaining style Lieutenant." he said benevolently. "Red Flag's been a damned fine outfit with you in its midst."

I reddened again and shook it.

"Thank you Sir." was all I could think of to say.

I was then dismissed.

I strode down the draughty corridor with my head in the clouds. I could hardly wait to telephone Mother and Dad to tell them what had happened. This was the most exciting thing to ever happen to our family. An Astronaut who hailed from a simple wheat farm in Kansas... I smiled from ear to ear. Dad would have to be proud of me now.

But do you know what? When I told Dad the news he hardly said a thing. Mother was absolutely beside herself with pride but Dad ... well ...space travel meant nothing to him. It was just another of my stupid dreams and by the sound of it a very dangerous one into the bargain.

I hung up the telephone bitterly disappointed at his reaction or should I say lack of it. What more did I have to do?

My disappointment only served to strengthen my resolve further.

As far as I was concerned nothing Dad or anyone said was going to stop me now.

I was on my way to Houston to make my mark in the world.

__

**Stage 3 - The Man in Love**

I left the Air Force on the latest possible date that I could and as per my orders I reported to NASA in Texas to begin my training. The base in Houston was completely amazing and my experiences in the Air Force paled into insignificance when I saw what lay ahead of me there.

I was introduced to the other three Astronauts who had been accepted into the programme. We all seemed to hit it off immediately which was good because we would be spending an awful lot of time together over the next six years.

However I was mindful of my background and felt very threatened when I learned all three of them had Doctorates in Engineering. It was painfully apparent that not only was I the youngest but the least qualified.

But I reassured myself I wasn't there for my Engineering background. I was there because I was able to fly.

My role was clear. It would be my responsibility to control the mighty yellow rocket ship already under construction. The ship would take us to the moon in just under six year's time to pioneer colonisation. In the meantime I would be piloting the three preliminary shuttle expeditions planned for eighteen months, thirty six months and forty eight months. The concept of the whole thing was daunting ... fascinating ...terrifying and humbling.

But irrespective of all of that, I still felt inadequate about my education and decided to step up the study for my Master's degree. So, like the old days I went back to spending most of my nights alone in my modest one bedroom apartment with my nose stuck in an Engineering book. I didn't go out much, not only because I was determined to improve myself but also because there was suddenly a lot of media attention on me with the announcement of the moon mission.

I simply hated being the centre of attention; I still do if you want the honest truth, so I preferred to stay home as much as I could.

The media attention spiralled out of control and soon entered the International arena. Colonisation was a global issue and it came as no surprise to NASA Officials that other countries wanted all the information they could about what was going on. The President decided it would be advantageous to send the four of us to strategic locations around the world to expose the concept internationally. He took the decision six months into my training in Houston. It was a political decision we were told and subsequently warned to be extremely careful in what we said to anyone. Our own opinions were not to be offered at any time. We could only read the statements given to us by NASA.

When I told Mother I was embarking on a two week tour of seven countries she instantly started to worry. I think the fact I was leaving the United States was bad enough but the reality that I didn't have a steady girl to be faithful to while I was gone really had her with her worry beads out.

"There are all sorts of diseases you can catch in some of those countries. "she warned me without batting an eyelid. "I'm sure your Father's spoken to you about how you go about getting them Jeff so make sure you pay attention to his words."

Gosh it was hard not to laugh at that one. I hadn't had time to catch anything but my breath since I'd been in Houston and I was sure it would be no different when I was overseas. Our itinerary was already mapped out. We were to visit seven nominated bases, read our pre-written statements and then attend receptions as Ambassadors for NASA. I don't know at what point Mother thought I might find the time to catch the diseases she was referring to but it was obvious she needed assurance I didn't intend to try.

I told her not to worry. Dad had spoken to me about the need to be careful at great length before I joined the Air Force.

"Mmmm." she frowned totally unconvinced.

And thus our tour began with me at the helm of our transportation. The familiar rush came back as we left the tarmac in Houston and headed into the sky. It was great to be back in the air again after six months of psychological tests and training in simulators.

But as I set course for London, little did I know my life was about to change completely.

There was someone in London I was destined to meet.

Someone who stole my heart and made it her own from the very first second I laid eyes on her.

Someone who was the most precious and beautiful possession I ever had in my life.

Lucy...

Ummm ...

Yeah...

I'm sorry. I'll be over this in a minute. I've swallowed this lump in my throat more times than I care to remember. I just wish Virgil didn't look so much like her. It's really hard to get my head together when her face is looking right at me.

Lucille Amanda Evans or Lucy as she preferred to be called was the daughter of one of the Chiefs of Civilian Staff at the Air Force base in London. Fate caused us to cross paths at the first reception in England. Her Mother had been unable to attend the reception owing to illness and from what I can gather Lucy drew the short straw and had to accompany her Father instead.

As with the receptions I'd attended in the States there were so many strange faces in the one place I failed to notice her at first. I was too busy shaking hands with dignitaries and answering the same questions over and over again to pay particular attention to anyone.

A little later in the evening I took refuge in a darkened corner of the room with the sole objective of having a quiet drink on my own and trying to get my head together. This sort of stuff was full on and I was really out of my comfort zone with some of the questions I was being asked.

I don't know what made me look at her, she always joked it was her magnetic personality but all of a sudden my eyes were inexplicably drawn in the direction of John Bradley Evans. He was talking to a group of his colleagues at the time and beside him, looking very uncomfortable, was Lucy.

I sympathised with her immediately. Like me, she really looked like she wished she was someplace else.

Our eyes met.

She smiled at me.

I didn't smile back.

Believe me I would have, but all the air in my lungs had left me and I was having trouble breathing let alone smiling. She was so breathtakingly beautiful I couldn't believe I was actually seeing her for a few minutes. My eyes took in every minute detail of her and I almost had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

In front of me was a girl with long curly chestnut hair which fell over her shoulders and framed her pretty elfin-like face; a girl with big brown eyes which seemed to have some sort of magic sparkle to them; a girl with slim, curvaceous body accentuated in all the right places by the fabulous reddish brown dress that she wore; a girl with soft, full lips and a smile made in heaven.

God I still see her in my mind and even now my body begins to stir when I think about how fabulous she looked that night.

I don't know how long I stood there like a love-struck fool but I finally snapped out of it long enough to go over there and introduce myself. By that time her Father had excused himself and she was standing completely alone.

"Hello." I said in my best mannered voice. "I couldn't help but notice you were on your own over here and looked like you needed rescuing."

I received a grateful smile from her in return.

"Yes I do thank you." she replied in her beautiful soft English voice. "I'm way out of my depth here at the moment I'm afraid."

I smiled back. She was even more beautiful up close than she was from a distance and had a lovely, friendly manner about her.

"I know what you mean about being out of your depth." I said sincerely. "I feel exactly the same way too."

We smiled shyly at each other again.

"It's nice to meet you anyway." she began. "My name's Lucy. Lucy Evans."

I nodded my head at her.

"Hello Lucy. I'm Jeff Tracy."

"I already know who YOU are!" she exclaimed. "You're on the front page of every newspaper in the world at the moment in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh I've noticed all right." I sighed. "Boy have I noticed."

She tilted her head to one side as if assessing me carefully.

"You don't sound like you're too crazy about all the publicity."

"I'm just not used to it I guess." I found myself confiding in her. "I'm ... I don't know ... I guess I'm a private person."

"Yes I can tell that about you already." she observed seriously.

Despite the fact I was blinded by her physical beauty I immediately recognised she had other beautiful qualities which attracted me. She was gracious, honest and open.

"Would you like to have a drink and talk with me for a while?" I offered, motioning the drinks waiter in our direction.

"As long as you take me back to where you were hiding before." she grinned.

As I took two glasses of champagne from the tray and handed one to her, I pretended to be surprised.

Her face lit up with amusement.

"Oh come on Jeff ... I saw you looking at me from the shadows before you came over here." she admonished me.

I went beetroot red at her forthrightness.

"Well I guess you've caught me out Lucy." I confessed guiding her in the direction of the darkened corner. "But it's a really good spot not to be noticed I think you'll find."

And so our conversation that night continued. We stood together for over three hours talking about everything. She didn't seem to care too much about the mission and I immediately appreciated that after all the questions I faced earlier. Lucy only wanted to know about me. And let me say I certainly wanted to know a heck of a lot more about her.

But unfortunately as with everything good, it soon came to an abrupt end.

"I see you've met my daughter Major. "John Bradley Evans suddenly boomed in a disapproving voice behind me. "You won't mind of course if I take her home now."

"Excuse me please Dad ..." Lucy frowned. "Jeff and I were in the middle of a conversation."

My eyes opened in surprise. It was plain from Lucy's tone that she had a mind of her own and didn't appreciate the interruption.

"Yes I've noticed the two of you have been conversing all evening." her Father replied with ice in his tone. "... and I'm sure by now the Major is grateful to be given the opportunity to excuse himself and speak to someone else."

He walked between the two of us and shoved her coat into her hand.

"Come on then Lucille." he said. "I'm sure what the Major has had to say to you was most interesting but it's time we were getting home."

She looked at him and sighed in resignation.

"All right Dad but can you please give me a few minutes to at least say a proper goodbye to Jeff?"

He looked at me dubiously but in the end he nodded his head and left us alone.

"He'd wrap me up in cotton wool if he could." she sulked. "I'm twenty two you know Jeff. I'm a grown woman if he'd care to open his eyes for a change and notice it."

I didn't tell her I'd certainly noticed she was a woman in more ways than one. I shrugged my shoulders.

"My Father's exactly the same." I complained. "I'd still be sitting on a tractor in Kansas if he'd had his way."

I looked nervously towards John Evans who stood near the door with his arms folded, glaring in our direction and looking at his watch.

"He certainly seems anxious for you to go." I commented.

For the first time in three hours an awkward silence now fell between us.

"Well ... I guess this is goodbye then." I reluctantly began. "I ... I really ended up enjoying this evening Lucy. To be honest I wasn't enjoying it at all until we met."

She fixed those beautiful brown eyes on mine.

"I enjoyed it too Jeff." she smiled. "Thank you for rescuing me when you did."

"You're welcome." I smiled back.

I swallowed hard. I really wanted to see her again and was trying to think of a way I'd be able to do it. But I knew I was clutching at straws. I was headed for Paris in the morning and that was that.

"I have the evening off tomorrow night." I suddenly said hopefully. "How hard would it be for you to join me in Paris for dinner?"

She looked at me with complete surprise before biting her lip and frowning.

"I don't know if I'd be able to do that Jeff."

"Oh." I breathed in disappointment. "That's a shame."

"I didn't say I wouldn't though." she winked.

My heart lifted.

"But it's awfully long way to go just to get some dinner." she mused.

My heart sank.

"Oh well." I shrugged accepting the fact I was destined never to see her again. "It seemed like a good idea in theory."

And with that I saw John Evans look at his watch for the tenth time in two minutes and roll his eyes in aggravation.

"I think you'd better go now Lucy." I urged her. "By the looks of things your Father's had enough of the waiting."

I held out my hand and shook hers.

"It's been really nice meeting you ma'am." I said sincerely. "Maybe I'll see you again some day."

She looked into my eyes and said mischievously.

"Well you will if you're buying me Dinner in Paris won't you?"

My eyes widened.

"You mean it Lucy?" I breathed in elation.

She nodded her head.

"Of course I do. I don't know what Mum and Dad are going to say about me seeing you again but to be quite honest with you Jeff I don't really care what they think."

I looked in the direction of John Evans once more and worriedly contemplated the consequences.

"Gee Lucy I sure don't want to get off side with your Father."

She ran her hand through her curls and said defiantly. "I'm twenty two Jeff. My Father has nothing to do with this."

With that we exchanged telephone numbers and parted. I don't know how the heck Lucy felt after our first meeting but it certainly affected me. I went back to my hotel in a complete daze and lay on my back in the darkness with my head spinning. My stomach and chest hurt like crazy. My heart wouldn't slow down. I had never felt this way before. I closed my eyes and began to wonder. Could it be possible that after only three hours in the company of Lucy Evans I had fallen in love with her?

Mother answered that question for me almost before the words left my mouth.

"No it is **NOT** possible young man." she snapped in a terse and very disgruntled voice. "It's down right ridiculous for a start. I knew this trip overseas was going to get you into trouble."

After a few minutes her hackles seemed to go down.

"Anyway you're leaving London tomorrow aren't you?"

You can imagine her reaction when I said yes I was leaving London but Lucy was coming to Paris to have dinner with me.

"You make sure your wallet is well and truly hidden under the mattress do you hear me?" she demanded. "Better still hand it in at the front desk. I don't trust girls like her. "

"Momma you don't even know her." I laughed.

"I don't have to." she snapped suspiciously. "Girls like that are all the same. Out for everything they can get."

"No momma. Trust me. Lucy's not anything like that."

"How the hell would you know? You've only known her three hours longer than I have."

"I know enough." I re-iterated. "I'm telling you mom, Lucy's the one. She's just perfect."

"Oh Jeff for goodness sake settle yourself down." were her parting words before she hung up.

Well I think if you asked mother about Lucy now she'd admit to you that for once in her life she was wrong. Lucy Evans turned out to be the one all right. By the time another four months had passed, even though I had only met her in person three times, I was completely, totally and utterly in love with her and nobody could convince me otherwise.

I tried really hard not to fall in love with her believe me.

After our evening together in Paris and my feelings for her intensified I forced myself to take a step back and look at things as they really were. I was in the Space Programme and had a job to do for my country. It wasn't practical for me to be in love with someone on the other side of the world. Besides, I told myself firmly, what I was feeling for Lucy Evans wasn't love. I hadn't even plucked up the courage to hold her hand.

But I wrote to her and called her once a week from Houston. And I thought about her all the time.

Four months after we first met I had a few days off and instead of going home to the farm like I usually did, I said nothing to Mother and returned to London. Lucy happily agreed to see me again. When I saw her the feelings I denied existed crashed in on me with a vengeance. She was prettier than I'd ever remembered her to be and before I'd even said hello my stomach started hurting again and my heart began to race. I shook my head at the obvious. I was in love with this girl and it was pointless pretending I wasn't.

Once I'd admitted it to myself the rest came more easily. I took her hand with confidence as we left the airport together and she squeezed mine too.

We laughed and talked all the way to my hotel. We laughed and talked over Lunch and Dinner. We didn't stop laughing and talking the whole time I was over there. We just had so much to say to each other about everything and such a short time to say it in. The days went by so fast when I was with her and before I knew it, it was time for me to go again.

The last afternoon I was there the two of us walked together one last time before I left to go to the airport. It was a beautiful spring afternoon and we'd stopped under a tree in the nearby park. I'd given her a small gift to remember me by. We had our arms around each other. She was looking up at me and smiling.

My blue eyes looked deeply into her brown ones searching for the answer to a question I didn't have the courage to ask her. Did she love me the same way I loved her? The answer was there without either of us saying a word.

Our first real kiss just seemed to happen then and as all the emotion I felt finally found an outlet, it grew and grew and grew into something I'll never forget until the day I die. I buried my face in her lavender scented curls and kissed her neck, quietly murmuring the words I'd wanted to say to her for nearly four months.

"I love you."

Her pretty face lit up with happiness. I knew right then and there my instincts were right. Those beautiful brown eyes held a love for me too and it had nothing to do with who I was or what I was ear-marked to achieve. This made leaving her harder than ever.

"I don't want to go back." I sighed.

"You have to go back Jeff, you know that." she pointed out in her practical voice. "You've got an important job to do and you can't do it if you start wishing you were someplace else."

I held her tighter. I knew she was right but I also knew I was about to enter a critical phase of my training for the first shuttle expedition. NASA wouldn't give me any more leave until that was done. The training period was eight months. I swallowed hard. There was no way I could wait eight whole months to be with her again.

"Lucy... I want you to come to the States and be with me." I blurted suddenly and without thinking. "I know we hardly know each other but ..."

I pulled away from her. What the hell was I saying? I seemed to have lost all sense of reason since I'd met her. I couldn't ask a girl I'd only met three times to pack up her life and come halfway across the world to be with me. I was simply making a complete fool of myself.

"Forget it." I said feeling like an idiot. "It's a stupid idea and I don't even know why I suggested it."

I was silent with embarrassment before I took hold of her hand and began to walk with a purpose towards my hotel.

"Come on. We'd better be getting back before I say something else I'll regret."

She pulled me to a standstill and looked back into my eyes with that special gift she possessed to quiet me.

"Don't say that Jeff. I'd like to think about it if you don't mind." she said solemnly. "OK?"

My head was in the clouds when she said that and all the way home I hoped against the odds she would think it was worthwhile for us to try and make a go of our fledgling relationship.

Well when Lucy Evans said she had a mind of her own she wasn't kidding. Three months later much to the complete disapproval of her parents and mine and much to my extreme elation, Lucy left her family and friends to come and live with me in Houston.

When Lucy arrived I was happy, nervous, apprehensive and ecstatic all at once. Having her live with me would be like having a wife except of course for the bedroom arrangements. Contrary to what everyone was thinking I had every intention of being the perfect gentleman with that side of things until we decided if we were meant to be together. Then and only then would it become appropriate.

Thus Lucy moved into my bedroom and I took up permanent residence on the couch. Naturally Mother didn't believe the innocence of the arrangements and I indignantly informed her she was wrong.

"It's not like that with Lucy and me." I told her. "All I've ever done is kiss her Momma and that's the honest truth."

Mother of course still didn't believe a word of it.

"Anyway when do I get to meet this Lucy?" she demanded. "I know your Father certainly wants to get a good look at her."

"Why?" I said in an annoyed voice. "Does he think she has two heads or something?"

"That's enough of your sarcasm Jeff Tracy." she snapped back. "For once in my life I'm in complete agreement with your Father. I think we have the right to see what the mother of our Grandchild looks like."

My eyes opened wide in horror.

"**_GRANDCHILD????_**" I exclaimed loudly. "There's no Grandchild! I think if anyone needs to settle down at the moment it's YOU Momma!"

And so before my Mother could come up with any more harebrained ideas as to why I had been so desperate to bring Lucy to the States, I decided I'd better take her with me to Kansas to meet them. Lucy was very nervous about it especially when I filled her in on what my Father could be like but she held her own without too much trouble.

Once Mother saw her and satisfied herself Lucy's super flat stomach bore no signs of pregnancy, she was immediately accepted. Dad on the other hand was very stand offish not only with Lucy but with me as well. Mother said he was unhappy the two of us were living together and thought it was a disgrace. I should have had the decency to marry her first he'd said... and bring her home with me to live on the farm.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

"Not that again!!! When is Dad going to get it through his head I am **not** coming home to live on the farm!" I snapped. "And as for the rest of it, I'm telling you for the last time momma I am **not** sleeping with Lucy! I haven't touched her and I have no intention of touching her!"

If only things had stayed that way that's all I can say.

I know I have to confess to this because Mother's holding it over my head like a ransom note at the moment and I hate the fact that she is. Every time I want to admonish Alan for his behaviour with Tin-Tin she reminds me of it. I absolutely can't stand it and it's even worse because I know I can't say a damn thing in my defence.

You see the very next night after my outburst about the innocence of our relationship, Lucy and me...

I still don't know how it happened ... honestly I don't. I only went in to say good night to her ... next thing I knew ... Oh God I may as well just come clean and admit it ... the two of us let our guard down and we had sex together ... not once but twice.

And yes both of us were unprotected at the time.

And yes I should have had more sense.

And yes my parents heard the whole darned thing from their bedroom next door

There I've admitted it mother OK? I'm not proud of it and it wasn't anything like the passionate experiences we shared later on when we made our sons together but it was full-blown sex in its rawest form which ever way you look at it and I'd wanted to have it with her from the very first moment we met.

Now I'm not mentioning it anymore does everyone understand? Not to you, not to Mother and certainly not to my sons.

The two of us returned to Houston after that night and once we had the proper protection in place we pretty well began living together as a couple. I fell deeper and deeper in love with her with each day that passed. I didn't think I could love her anymore than I did in the beginning but I was wrong.

We started to share the little things that make life special and memorable ... nights together watching TV on the couch, altercations over blankets before simply snuggling up together in each other's arms; twilight walks holding each other's hands...where we talked about life and what our future together might hold.

"I'm going to be a billionaire one day you know Luce." I joked squeezing her to me and kissing the top of her head. "And I'll be able to afford to buy you anything you want."

"Sure you will Mr. Big-shot!" she mocked me wrapping her arms around my waist. "I hope I live long enough to see that!"

Yeah well ... we all know she didn't.

Mmmm...

But I was just so grateful I had her with me back then. I needed her quiet reassurance more than she ever realised as the first shuttle mission approached and once again the eyes of world were upon me.

The mission was set for January and a few days before Christmas after thinking long and hard about the implications, I made the biggest decision of my life. I didn't have a clue how to go about what I needed to do and who I could trust to help me get it right but somehow I managed to bumble my way through the entire process without too much trouble.

Amongst the hustle and bustle of the Christmas crowds and feeling very conspicuous with all the stares I was receiving courtesy of the mission, I walked home alone quietly contemplating my actions.

I'd just blown every cent I had on an engagement ring for Lucy.

I knew it was time to commit myself to her properly, not only because it was the right thing to do but because I loved her from the bottom of my heart and I wanted her to be with me forever.

Ummm... Scott's got his Mother's ring now. I gave it to him a while back for when he ...ummm ...

Yeah ...

You know, I don't know why the thought of Lucy's engagement ring upsets me. When I proposed to her on Christmas morning and she accepted it was the happiest day of my life.

I guess it's the thought that if she was still with me she'd be wearing something much more expensive... but then again maybe not. Luce was never a material person. She loved people, not things. She was thrilled with the ring but more thrilled because I'd asked her to marry me. As for me, I was delighted at the thought she was going to be my wife.

However her parents were less than pleased about it as you can imagine. They had continued to hope our relationship would turn sour and she would return home. Now it was obvious she wasn't going to be going anywhere and whilst they congratulated us on our engagement, I could tell by their tone they were not impressed at all.

I understood their concerns. My job was dangerous and it didn't pay all that well either. I wasn't brave enough to tell them I had no money at all now after buying Lucy the ring.

Mother was ecstatic and Dad seemed pleased enough too. He liked Lucy but he didn't like the fact she sided with me in everything to do with my career. Dad and I had had one too many altercations over my career choice as well as my living arrangements in Houston over the past few months. At least the fact I was getting married made him feel a little bit happier. The impending shuttle mission certainly didn't.

Dad was very concerned as the mission approached.

The day the Shuttle blasted off he drove Mother down to Houston to see me. I had already said my private goodbyes to Lucy earlier in the day and she stood back and watched as Mom and Dad said their goodbyes too. Mother was a mess...bursting with pride, bursting with emotion, and finally as I kissed her and told her I loved her, bursting into tears. Lucy came forward to comfort her.

"Don't worry Mrs Tracy. He'll be all right." she soothed looking at me over the top of Mother's head and giving me a brave and beautiful smile. "Jeff's the best in the business remember?"

"Of course I know you're right dear." Mother said reaching for her handkerchief. "It's just that he's my only son. "

She started crying again. That was the end of Dad then. He'd remained silent until now. He pulled me into his arms not caring who was watching and hugged me to him for everything he was worth.

"I'm proud of you son." he said beginning to cry. "You take good care of yourself up there you hear me now?"

I couldn't believe it. He'd finally said he was proud of me...after all these years.

"I will Daddy." I said holding in my own emotions and hugging him tightly in return. "I'll be back before you know it Sir."

"You just make sure that you are." he swallowed. "You've got a young lady in your life you have to consider now."

I looked over at Lucy and then back at my Father.

"Yes Sir I know."

And thus began the space career of Major Jefferson Grant Tracy, United States Astronaut. I had just celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday.

I am at a loss for words when I think about the euphoria I experienced on that first mission into space. I can't describe it. Honestly it would take too long and I wouldn't even know where to begin. But let me say this; what mankind had achieved in allowing me the privilege of taking the helm of that shuttle is nothing other than brilliant.

The mission went without a hitch and NASA was extremely pleased with the performance of all the Astronauts. Plans were immediately begun for Mission Number Two without allowing us to take an inward breath. The count down to the moon mission had fallen under the four year mark and the massive yellow rocket ship was on course in its construction.

The training intensified. The expectations became higher. The pressure on me escalated.

In more ways than one...

Five weeks after the first mission I came home from work in a bad mood after a particularly difficult and stressful day. I didn't often get in moods but today nothing had gone right. The equipment I was testing failed, I'd overstepped the mark when I was ordered to test it again and to top it all off the car got a flat tyre on the way home. All I wanted was some sympathy and a little understanding but Lucy didn't even smile at me when I walked through the door.

I shook my head at her and threw my briefcase on the floor. She'd been acting like the world was going to end for the past two weeks and I was starting to get a bit sick of it. I knew if I said so we'd end up in an argument so I flopped myself down on the couch, toyed with my Engineering book for a while and then turned on the television. The hours passed and I started to get hungry. That made my mood ten times worse.

"Lucy!" I snapped flicking from one channel to the other. "What the heck do I have to do to get some dinner around here?"

With that she came and stood in front of the couch winding her fingers together nervously. I was too busy thinking of myself to notice she had been crying.

"Jeff ..." she began.

"What?" I frowned without looking up.

"Jeff ... I'm late."

I still didn't look up.

"Damn right it's late Lucy! It's nearly eight thirty and we still haven't eaten."

She burst into tears.

"Jeff ... you're not listening to me... "

Lucy had never cried before and at the sight of her tears my mood immediately disappeared. I motioned her to come and sit down beside me and once she did I quietly placed my arm around her shoulders.

"Hey princess I'm sorry. I'm listening to you now OK?" I said softly. "Tell me what the matter is."

She looked into my eyes with tears gushing out of hers.

"Like I said I'm late... three whole weeks."

I looked at her not comprehending what she was on about. I guessed I was tired and preoccupied and really didn't want do too much thinking at nine o'clock on the evening.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a blank and tired voice.

"Oh Jeff how can you be so brilliant at everything and not know what a girl being late means?" she sniffled in exasperation. "I think I'm pregnant ... that's what it means."

I did nothing but stare at her in complete shock.

"Oh my God." I breathed numbly. "Lucy ... you can't be."

"Jeff I'm so sorry. I only forgot once. I swear." she continued looking up at me in devastation. "I can't believe this has happened to me. Honestly I don't want a baby any more than you do at the moment."

I looked back at her in silence but contrary to what she was expecting nothing but pure happiness lit up my eyes. She might have thought she knew me well but she was completely wrong about how I felt about us having children.

I smoothed back her hair and quieted her with a kiss on her lips.

"Hey there baby girl." I said in a gentle voice. "You stop all this crying right now huh?"

I tilted her chin to mine and said in a calm and steady voice.

"There is nothing in this world that I want more than a baby of my own."

I leaned forward and kissed her again.

"And especially one I've made with you."

Her tearful eyes scanned mine.

"You ... you mean it Jeff?" she blubbered.

"Of course I mean it." I replied pointing to the engagement ring on her finger. "This means for life in case you've forgotten."

She wiped her eyes and began to calm down a little. "I've been so scared about having to tell you. I've been trying to think of how I could ... and what you'd say and ..."

"Lucy we have to get married straight away." I interrupted. "Before ... um ..."

I paused and quickly added.

"...before much longer."

I was going to say before our parents found out about the baby but I very wisely didn't. Lucy was miserable enough.

After a little while she ended up bringing up the subject herself.

"I didn't want to be pregnant on my wedding day." she moped. "My Father told me I would be for sure and I really wanted to prove him wrong."

"Luce no-one has to know about the baby but us." I assured her. "We just have to keep quiet for a couple of weeks after the wedding that's all."

She looked doubtful.

"Babies are born early all the time." I said. "No-one's gonna work it out."

"Your mother will."

"No she won't."

"Yes she will."

"Now how's she gonna do that?"

"She just will."

I ended up kissing her on the lips to get her to stop arguing with me.

"You are going to be the most fantastic mother Lucy Evans." I whispered in adoration running my hand through her curls and wrapping my free arm around her.

"And you'll be the most wonderful Father." she replied snuggling into my chest.

"I can hardly wait Princess." I said meaning every word of it.

A baby of our own. I was simply delighted.

The two of us got married in Paris two weeks after that, using the excuse that I didn't want to have a wedding to worry about when I had so much other pressure on me with the second mission approaching. Lucy's parents were all right with the sudden arrangements and luckily Dad'd had a good year on the farm and was able to afford to fly to Paris with Mother for the ceremony.

Lucy looked positively radiant on our wedding day and I wore my dress uniform. John Bradley Evans shook my hand and finally welcomed me into their family. Dad kissed Lucy and finally welcomed her into ours. Lucy's Mother cried. My Mother cried. Lucy cried.

And just between you and me; so did I.

But my tears didn't fall until I held her naked in my arms on our wedding night and realised just how much responsibility I now had in my life ... a wife, a child and a duty to my country. I sobbed my god-damned heart out as I clasped that beautiful girl to my chest and watched her sleep. She was everything to me.

And .... ummm ... she still is.

Yeah ...

NASA was only able to spare me for a couple of days and after only a three day break, I was ordered to return to the States. Lucy teased me and warned she expected to be compensated for the lack of a decent honeymoon.

"I hardly got to know my new husband the whole thing was so short." she grinned mischievously.

I teased her just as mischievously reminding her that the reason we had to get married so fast in the first place was because she'd gotten to know me a little "too well" for her own good.

Not that she needed reminding about that. The poor girl was sick every minute of the day and announced on more than one occasion our plans for having three children were seriously in jeopardy.

"If this is what it's like you can have the next one." she groaned running to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. "This is horrible."

However the morning sickness was the least of our worries in the weeks following the wedding. The two of us were more concerned that Lucy's body would show outward signs that would give away our secret before we did. Luckily at twelve weeks when I "broke" the news to both sets of parents she was still fairly flat.

Just as well she was. Mother was down to Houston like a flash she was so excited.

"The end of May will be here before you know it dear." she enthused before turning to me. "I hope you're going to find a bigger place for your family to live."

I nodded my head and told her we would be moving into a three bed-roomed place as soon as it became available.

"Well don't leave it too long." she warned. "May is only seven and a half months away you know."

"She's going to find out Jeff." Lucy began again.

"She won't."

"She will."

Thank goodness for us the baby was late. Lucy had been told she would deliver around March 20 and not May 18 as we had told our parents. We crossed our fingers and prayed for the baby to stay put. March moved into April much to our relief but early on April 4 Lucy woke me in a flap.

"Jeff." she grimaced as I opened my eyes and looked at her stupidly. "I think the baby's coming."

"It can't be. "I joked rolling over on my side and pretending to go back to sleep. "It's not due until May 18."

Lucy wasn't amused and she became less and less amused as the hours passed and she experienced what could only be described from where I sat as a dreadfully painful experience. The doctor said the baby was very big and by the lack of progress in the labour it seemed he was in no hurry to present himself to the world either.

"Mrs Tracy." her Doctor said. "I really do recommend you accept at least some pain relief. You are clearly very uncomfortable and things are going to get a lot rougher for you yet."

Lucy shook her head stubbornly. She was emphatic drugs and pregnancy didn't mix and in her opinion that included the birth. I thought she was crazy when I saw how much she was suffering and desperately tried to get her to change her mind.

"You're not having this baby Jeff. I am!" she forced through her lips as another contraction took a hold of her. I watched her bite her lips until they bled. This went on for nearly twenty hours until my first son finally decided to enter the world. I watched in awe as she endured nothing less than pure agony as he was delivered.

"We have ourselves a boy." the Doctor announced as if he'd done the whole thing himself.

He hadn't been wrong when he said the baby was going to be big. He was big all right... all nine pound fourteen of him and he let out one hell of an unhappy wail to announce his arrival too. The tears rolled down my face as his cries became stronger.

A son ... my son ...

I looked at Lucy who had collapsed back on the pillows in exhaustion. I squeezed her hand and kissed her tear-stained cheek.

"Our son." I said proudly.

"No more babies Jeff." she whimpered almost delirious. "Please ...you can't ask me to go through this again."

She was out to it after that and consequently I was given the honour of holding our newborn son in my arms. Words can't describe my feelings of what was so right with the world as I looked into the eyes of baby Scott Carpenter Tracy and leaned forward to kiss his tiny head. This was what life was all about, not flying a jet at suicidal speed or blasting off into space at the helm of a space shuttle. Life was about this tiny little scrap of humanity Lucy and I had made together nine months before who had now unwittingly made us a Family.

He was so perfect... so defenceless ... so utterly special ...

I look at my first born now as he stands over there talking to his brother. Life is still all about family to me and I am fiercely proud of my eldest son and everything he has achieved in his life.

Speaking of the family, once I was sure Lucy and Scott were all right I cringed and went to find a telephone. I had to call our parents and tell them Lucy had delivered "early".

I felt like I was robbing the bank or something as I picked up the receiver and dialled the numbers. It was only a white lie and it certainly wasn't hurting anybody but the thought of lying to Lucy's parents and mine felt like I was committing perjury.

I called Lucy's first. They were a bit concerned initially but once I'd explained everything was fine they relaxed and offered their congratulations. I quickly got off the telephone before they had a chance to ask me too many questions.

I wish I'd had the same luck with my Mother. I swear that woman didn't take a breath for five minutes when she heard the news.

How could he be six weeks early? Was Lucy doing too much? Why the hell did I let her? What brought the labour on? Was Lucy all right? Was the baby all right? Who did he look like? What colour was his hair? What was his name? And finally ... I screwed up my face as the dreaded words came out... how big was he?

"Uhh... big the Doctor said for a baby born so early." I said carefully.

"Well how big's big?" Mother demanded.

"Nine pounds fourteen momma." I said in a very quiet voice.

"**_NINE POUNDS FOURTEEN_**?" she exclaimed in complete disbelief. "You're kidding me aren't you Jeff?

"No ma'am. That's how big he is." I replied meekly.

Somehow I got the impression I didn't fool Mother with the premature bit. She and Dad came down to Houston to see Scott a few days later and as Mother held him in her arms she turned and gave both Lucy and me "the look" I used to receive as a child when I didn't tell her the truth. She never said a word to either of us but somehow I think she knew she didn't have to. The comment she passed to Dad said it all.

"My goodness, nearly ten pounds huh? Those vitamins Lucy was taking must have been really good wouldn't you say Grant?"

"Yeah ... real good." Dad frowned casting a disapproving glare in my direction. It was obvious he wasn't fooled with the premature story either.

Lucy made a slow recovery from the birth and luckily for both of us Scott was a perfect baby. He slept when he was supposed to and fed like there was no tomorrow. Mother stayed on for a while to help Lucy adjust to Motherhood which was a godsend as I was working almost eighteen hours a day in preparation for the mission.

I hardly saw Lucy or Scott in those months and I really started to become unhappy about the lack of balance between my family life and my career. Scott was growing so fast and it seemed like I was always missing something important he was doing. One minute I'd missed his first smile, the next minute I'd missed him rolling himself over.

"There has to be more to life than this." I complained to Lucy after another stressful day at the base.

She stroked my hair as we sat curled up together on the couch enjoying some rare time together alone with the baby.

"Sweetheart it's your job and you know it can't be helped at the moment" she reassured me. "Scott adores you. You've only got to look at him to know that."

I looked down at my baby son lying wide awake in my arms. He smiled at me and reached out a tiny hand to touch my face. My hand closed over his and I smiled in return. He was a bright little guy and very advanced for four months. He gurgled with delight at the attention I was giving him and before I knew it the two of us were laughing out loud together.

My unhappiness faded. Lucy was right. Scott and I had an extremely close and special bond. We still do.

But the bond I was concerned about was the one I had with Lucy.

With all the extra work and the time spent with the baby I began to worry myself senseless that I was not paying enough attention to her. One of the other Astronauts had just separated from his wife as a result of the mission commitments and I was terrified the same thing might happen to me. Lucy was my world and I wanted it to stay that way.

I made a very big deal of our first wedding anniversary which followed soon after and made all sorts of arrangements to make her feel special.

I hired a baby sitter and booked us an intimate table at a nice restaurant. I ordered flowers to be brought to the table. However I hugged a final surprise close to my chest until we were well and truly seated at the restaurant and drinking our first glass of champagne.

"I got a surprise for you after dinner young Lady." I winked across the table reaching forward to take her hand in mine.

She rolled her eyes at my wicked, suggestive smile.

"Uh oh I'm not sure I like the sound of that." she frowned suspiciously.

"Oh you will." I assured her. "Trust me."

"Well you'd better tell me what you've got in mind first before you start congratulating yourself that I'll like it." she warned.

"Oh you're gonna love this one Luce." I began grinning from ear to ear.

Her eyes didn't waver from mine.

"I've hired us a hotel room for a couple of hours after dinner." I announced triumphantly. "You and I are gonna be Mr and Mrs Jones for the night!"

"JEFF!!!!" she exclaimed in horror. "Are you crazy?"

"No." I smirked completely delighted at her dismay. "except about you maybe."

"Jeff, you're the most famous person in Houston at the moment." she rebuked me. "How's it going to look if you check into some sleazy hotel using an assumed name?"

I winked at her again.

"Like I got myself one hell of a sexy lady that I want to make love to until I can't love her anymore."

She shook her head at me before beginning to laugh.

"You're nuts you know Mr. Tracy."

"I guess I am Mrs Tracy." I joked leaning forward to kiss her over the top of the candle. "Nuts about you."

She continued to laugh for a while before her smile faded and she became deadly serious.

"Well the answer's no anyway." she said much to my complete surprise.

"Why?" I whined in a voice that sounded surprisingly like Alan's now that I think about it.

"Because I haven't taken anything today Jeff." she said. "And I don't have it with me to take now."

I sat staring at her from across the table. She had to be joking didn't she? We'd be going home straight after it was over and she could certainly take something then. I was sure a few hours wouldn't make any difference to her stringent birth control regime.

Yeah well you should have seen me trying to convince Lucy.

"We don't need two accidents so close together Jeff." was the stubborn reply. "Scott's only four months old."

She was serious. No matter what I said she wasn't budging.

"It's not going to happen to me again Jeff unless I want it to." she said adamantly.

Then to top it all off my cell phone rang and I was called into an emergency meeting at the Base. Talk about bad timing!

"Well neither of us is going anywhere now." I sulked as I prepared to pay the check for the use of the table. "Some romantic night this turned out to be; one glass of champagne, an argument over birth control and no damned dinner! "

That was just the tip of the iceberg with Lucy believe me. In the months that followed she wouldn't come anywhere near me unless she was absolutely sure she was protected. It certainly put the damper on what could have been some very fine impromptu experiences in my life let me tell you and it become more than a just a little frustrating at times.

But after I returned from the second shuttle mission and I saw my little boy had started to crawl I asked her to reconsider.

"I want another baby Lucy." I said.

"I'm not having another baby until I know you're back safely from the moon." was the reply.

"Lucy!" I huffed in absolute frustration. "That's still over three and a half years away!"

"That's exactly right!"

You have no idea how stubborn that girl could be. I adored her but boy could she try a man's patience sometimes.

But as fate should have it something inside her made her change her mind and four months after Scott turned three and just less than sixteen months before I was due to control the mission to the moon I watched in awe again as Lucy went through exactly the same agony as she had with Scott and our second son came into the world.

And I had to break the news to Mother and Dad that we had decided to call him Virgil.

Dad nearly had a fit.

"What sort of name is that for a Tracy son? "he protested outside before the two of them went in to see Lucy and the baby.

"It's not that bad Dad." I frowned. "Lucy really likes the name so I'd watch out what I said in there if I were you."

"I'm not watchin' myself. He should have a proper name and I'm gonna tell her so." Dad bravely announced.

"Bet you don't." Mother murmured under her breath.

I started to laugh.

Even Mother acknowledged Lucy and her strong will was a force to be reckoned with these days.

My chest swelled with pride and happiness as I led my parents into Lucy's room.

"You'll just love this little guy. He looks exactly like her." I told them. "He's got the same features, the same coloured hair ... everything."

I look at Virgil sitting over there tinkering on the piano. Same features, same coloured hair ...everything. He still looks exactly like Lucy even after twenty six years.

Naturally Mother was right about Dad. He never said a word to Lucy about Virgil's name. Mother on the other hand had to have her say about everything else.

"He's certainly a heck of a lot smaller than Scott isn't he?" she mused kissing the top of his tiny chestnut head. "Funny considering this one's a full term baby."

The two of us then got "the look" again and Lucy nearly died.

"I told you your Mother wasn't fooled by that premature story." she said once they'd left to go home. "She's one intelligent lady Jeff and the sooner you realise she's one step in front of you the better."

Virgil came home a few days later and Scott immediately made his displeasure known. He was terribly jealous of the baby and wouldn't tolerate me going within three feet of him. I desperately tried to keep the peace but there was no peace to be had with our self-willed three year old in the house. When Daddy wanted Scott that was OK; when Mommy wanted Scott that was OK; when Mommy wanted Virgil that was OK. But when Daddy wanted Virgil ...

"For goodness sake Jeff give him here to me!" came Lucy's exasperated words as Scott threw one of his dreaded tantrums on the floor of the kitchen. I had made the fatal mistake of offering to amuse Virgil while Lucy tried to cook us some dinner before she fed him.

She took the little chestnut bundle out of my arms and eyed our strong-minded eldest son with complete disapproval.

"Trying to do two things at once around here is much less stressful than putting up with all that racket!" she exclaimed putting Virgil to her breast and trying to keep an eye on the dinner at the same time.

Then she fixed the disapproving look on me.

"And if you think for one minute I'm having three of **THEM** Jeff Tracy you're very much mistaken!"

But there wasn't time for any more children right now. Life around me was escalating at an alarming pace. The media had returned in force to Houston and the eyes of the world had come back with them.

The massive yellow rocket ship at Cape Kennedy was now complete and it was rumoured its four Astronauts were about to receive their orders from the President.

The media frenzy became damned right invasive. Photographers followed us everywhere and journalists stuck microphones in our faces. NASA ordered us to say nothing. The lack of privacy really bothered me but I gritted my teeth and tolerated it ... that is until the media circus went too far and started to interfere with my family.

Lucy had only gone to the supermarket to get a few things for dinner. She returned in tears and the two boys were completely hysterical. I quickly gathered Scott into my arms to settle him down and went to find nine month old Virgil a bottle. I demanded to know what had happened. Between sobs Lucy told me three photographers had followed her not only in the market but all the way home. They'd harassed her demanding pictures of the boys. They were doing a story on the impact the mission was having on the families of the Astronauts they'd said and told her it was in her best interests to co-operate.

"I told them I wasn't allowed to say anything." Lucy heaved. "But they wouldn't take no for an answer."

Scott buried his curly little head in my shoulder and cried his eyes out. Virgil settled down a little once I handed Lucy the bottle but every now and then he stopped feeding and joined Scott in a whimper of protest. It took nearly an hour to calm the boys down and Lucy was an absolute mess.

"This is God-damned ridiculous." I seethed. "I'm not taking this. Can't those imbeciles see my sons are only babies."

I immediately picked up the telephone and demanded to speak to General Casey.

"You do something to protect my family Sir!" I demanded. "You do something right now or you can find someone else to take that blasted ship to the moon!"

General Casey knew that I meant what I was saying and suggested it would be a good idea if Lucy and the boys stayed with my parents for a couple of weeks until the rumours died. NASA arranged for their transportation to Kansas. My dissension towards the media grew as I sat alone in the evenings missing my wife and my two little boys. I began to see things in a different light. Walking on the moon wasn't worth this. Nothing was.

The pressure finally eased when the President failed to make the announcement. The speculation had lasted almost four weeks.

Once things had settled down, Dad discreetly drove Lucy and the kids back to Houston. I hadn't realised just how lonely I was until the identical faces of Lucy and Virgil came through the door and Scott literally jumped into my arms and started hugging me for all he was worth.

"I missed you Daddy." he exclaimed kissing me on the cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did!" I replied happily. "I missed all of you."

My eyes met Lucy's and I felt my whole body tingle at the sight of her. I know two little boys who are definitely having an early night tonight , I thought to myself and then turned my attention back to my eldest son.

"Grandpa let me drive his tractor Daddy!" he enthused, his dark blue eyes flashing with life. "He said I could be a Farmer like him if I want to."

I gave my Father an amused smirk before looking at Scott. "Oh Grandpa did, did he?"

Scott nodded his head. "Uh huh. But I said I wanna be a astronaut like you Daddy. I told Grandpa Virgie can be a Farmer instead."

I looked in the direction of my second little boy who patiently waited in his Mother's arms for my attention. Like her he had the most beautiful smile on his face.

"What do you think about that Virg?" I asked reaching out to take him with my free arm. "You want to be a Farmer like Grandpa?"

"He says yes." Scott announced as Virgil babbled at me with delight.

"Well as far as I'm concerned you and Virgie can be anything you want to be." I assured him hoping Dad was taking my point in how I was raising my sons.

I looked at him as he carried in the bags. He was looking very drawn and tired after the drive and for the first time in my life it occurred to me that my Father was starting to grow older.

"You feeling OK Daddy?" I asked putting down the boys and immediately helping with the bags.

Dad frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped. "Course I'm OK."

"You just look tired Sir that's all."

"Well I am tired Jefferson if you must know but I'm also mighty unhappy about the strain you and your family are under at the moment. This ain't no way to live your life you understand?"

"Please Daddy ..." I began. "Not now."

Dad shrugged.

"Son I ain't tellin' you what to do no more. I don't think I have to. You can see for yourself just by lookin' at your wife and your boys that things ain't right with this style of livin'. "

I swallowed and lowered my eyes. I knew Dad was right.

"Now I gotta get on back to your momma ." he said extending his hand and drawing me into a hug. "I guess lookin' after your family is up to you again

now ."

"Thanks for everything Dad." I said gratefully. "I guess the next time I see you , we'll all be at Cape Kennedy."

He nodded his head briskly.

"Guess so."

He turned and kissed Lucy and each of the boys before I walked with him to the car. Our eyes met one last time as he opened the door.

"You know son bein' famous is one thing. Bein' true to what's important in your life is another. "he said seriously. "Promise me you'll think about that when this moon landing is over."

Those words were the greatest words of wisdom he ever uttered.

I nodded my head. "I will Sir." I said. "Thanks again."

My family was not left in peace for long. Two months later the President himself flew into Houston and the media came with him. It was rumoured he had come to finally make the long-waited announcement.

I still remember the hoard of photographers outside our apartment block when I got out of the car.

I still remember the flashing of cameras and jostle of bodies as I pushed my way through them refusing to answer their questions.

I still remember my anger at the complete invasion of my family's privacy at a time when we needed it most.

But the thing I remember most was the look of fear in Lucy's eyes when I broke the news.

"Luce we have to pack." I swallowed as I walked through the door. "I've been ordered to Florida."

_0000000000000000000000000_

Lucy tried so hard to be brave in the last few months leading up to the mission. She was clearly terrified something was going to go wrong. She never said so in as many words but I soon picked up on the signs.

She started to ask me questions she would never normally ask. How did you change a fuse? What were the rules of baseball? How old was I when my Father told me the facts of life?

"Why do you need to know something like that for?" I laughed with great amusement.

My smile faded. I saw her eyes brimming .

"In case I have to tell the boys." she blurted and hurriedly tried to leave the room. I grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around to face me. She looked away from me. She didn't want me to see she had started to cry.

"Nothing's going to go wrong Luce." I reassured her firmly. "I promise."

She dissolved completely then. She knew as well as I did that I was making promises I was powerless to keep.

"But what if it does Jeff? "she sobbed. "What happens to me and the boys then?"

"Hey." I berated her looking her fully in the face. "What happened to the brave young lady who told momma I was the best in the business huh?"

"She grew up and had two babies that's what." she sniffled into my chest. "Jeff ... I'm just so afraid now. I'm afraid for you and even more afraid for our boys. They need you and I don't know if I'm brave enough to manage on my own."

My own eyes started to fill. Lucy had been my rock from the beginning. She had given me confidence when I had lost my own with the continued failure of vital equipment. She gave me reassurance when I needed it the most. I couldn't cope with the fact that she was falling apart on me now.

"Please don't make me doubt myself Luce." I pleaded tearfully. "I need you to say you believe in me."

When she couldn't find the strength to say anything I felt fear in my heart for the very first time in my life.

What the hell was I doing? I had two little boys who needed me and here I was about to risk my life for something which didn't matter a dime to them. The truth hit me squarely in the face.

All that really mattered in life was my family.

Suddenly I saw my Father in a different light and admitted to myself everything he had said when he brought my family back to Texas was true. I began to understand why he worried about me the way he did. I felt that way now about Scott and Virgil.

All I wanted to do at that moment was hug my Father and tell him he was right.

But I never got to hug my Father again.

I never even got to say goodbye.

Three weeks after Lucy broke down I was unexpectedly summoned to the Office of General Casey as a matter of priority. I was living on base until the mission and I knew I was not permitted any contact with my family unless it was an emergency. I strode down the corridor in an absolute panic.

General Casey informed me there had been an accident.

Dad had suffered a heart attack on the tractor and had fallen underneath it.

Mother had found him several hours later.

He had died instantly.

As my bottom lip trembled and I squared my jaw to control myself, General Casey delivered the final blow.

There was only two weeks left before the mission and my final preparation was absolutely critical.

I couldn't be released to be with my Mother no matter what the circumstances.

I would only be allowed to go home for the funeral.

My dark blue eyes stared at him sightless.

So this was the value they put on family.

At that point I knew I had had enough.

The next three days were all a blur to me I was so churned up with anger and emotion. I spoke to Mother every morning and evening and she seemed to be holding up OK. Colonel Casey had arranged for the Air Force to take Lucy and the boys to Kansas to be with her. Lucy was furious. She couldn't believe I wasn't being allowed to fly to Kansas until the day of the funeral.

"Someone in a high place certainly has a lot to answer for if you want my opinion." she fumed. "I feel so sorry for your Mother Jeff. I'm doing my best to organise things but I'm certainly not you."

However despite how she felt she told me all the arrangements for the service had been made and assured me all I had to do was come.

The devastation in my heart was almost too great for me to bear when she said that's all I had to do.

I was a Tracy son.

His son.

He'd worked his heart out to give me everything he possibly could.

And I wasn't allowed to do one last decent thing for him.

On the morning of the funeral I remember deliberately electing to be the passenger in the Air Force Fighter Jet sent to convey me to Kansas. It was my old favourite - the beloved F-16. But things were different today. "JT" Tracy felt no rush in his blood as the plane left the tarmac and swung around to head towards Kansas.

For the first time since he'd taken control of a jet, "JT" felt nothing.

I sat in my dress uniform staring straight ahead of me.

I was twenty nine years old.

I was at the pinnacle of my career.

I was now supposedly the best pilot in the world.

I would be embarking on my lifetime dream in only eleven days.

And I'd give it all up right now if I could only have my Father back.

"You look tired Major." came a familiar voice beside me. Familiar but no longer arrogant.

I turned my head and looked into the eyes of Captain Randy Davis; the man NASA had originally considered for selection in the space programme before they had hand-picked me.

Six years was a long time to hold a grudge and there had been an awful lot of water under the bridge since then.

I was no longer the quietly confident brash young Lieutenant he had talked down to and threatened before our first dog-fight.

I was Major Jefferson Grant Tracy, US Astronaut, higher in rank, higher in profile, superior in speed and much more experienced.

Why didn't I feel at least some element of self-satisfaction at that moment?

"It's been a most stressful week Captain." I replied emotionlessly and turned my head away to look back out the window.

Naturally Kansas was festering with media but thankfully for Mother's sake they kept their distance from the funeral and allowed us to grieve in peace.

The service Lucy arranged was lovely. She'd written Dad's eulogy with Mother's help and all I had to do was stand up in the church and read it. She'd arranged the refreshments at the farmhouse afterwards. All I had to do was walk amongst the visitors, shake everyone's hand and place a supporting arm around my Mother.

This all seemed so surreal. I wasn't supposed to just fly in to my Father's funeral like some God, read a few lines and shake a few hands. This was my Father for God's sake. My place was here with Mother and with my family.

Mother seemed to sense my feelings of inadequacy.

"Jeff." she croaked in a teary voice. "Please stop twisting yourself up in knots over this son. You can't help what you're required to do."

I looked down at her and nodded miserably. I knew she was right ... but he was my Father and I had loved him.

It hardly seemed like I'd been there at all before the official car arrived to take me back to the plane. I looked at my Mother and then hung my head.

"Momma. I have to go." I began apologetically.

"I know you do Jefferson." she said quietly. "But not yet."

She motioned Lucy to my side and took Virgil out of her arms.

"You two have supported me all day. Now it's time you supported each other."

Then she turned to Scott and held out her free hand.

"Come with Grandma little one. We need to go and tell the men in the car Daddy will be a few more minutes."

I only got to hold Lucy very briefly. Funnily enough she insisted on taking me upstairs to the room where the two of us had first... well I said I wasn't going to mention that anymore and I think it's best that I don't.

I closed the door behind us.

We were completely alone.

I looked over at her like a lost puppy. I had so much I wanted to say to her and needed to say but the words simply wouldn't come out.

"Come here baby." she whispered in her calm, comforting voice.

Her arms were like an oasis as they wrapped around me and we embraced as close as our bodies would allow. The familiar lavender smell soothed me immediately.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" she asked.

I shook my head. No I wasn't all right and she was the only one I could confide in and admit it.

"I'm tired Luce." I murmured tearfully into her hair. "Tired, disillusioned and unhappy."

I felt her squeeze me tighter.

"I know you are sweetheart." she soothed. "But it's more important than ever that you finish off what you started now. Your Father will be expecting you to."

We were silent.

"Luce ..." I began again and then sniffled miserably. "I don't think I have what it takes to do this anymore."

She looked at me with her beautiful bottomless brown eyes before gently stroking the side of my face and running her fingers through my hair.

"Yes you do baby." she assured me. "You're just not yourself at the moment."

"But I've made so many mistakes in the simulators these past three days."

"Jeff stop expecting the impossible of yourself. You're grieving."

"They won't give me time to grieve baby girl." I swallowed and then burst into tears in her arms. "They keep telling me I got a job to do."

We clung to each other until I was all cried out. Only then did she continue.

"Well if they say you have a job to do, find it in yourself to go back and do it then. But don't do it for them Jeff. Do it for your Father."

I shook my head.

"Daddy never wanted me to be an Astronaut in the first place."

Her lips brushed mine.

"I know he didn't but he was still very very proud of you Jeff. "

I squeezed her fragile young body to mine once more.

"Luce do you really believe Daddy would still want me to do this?"

Lucy never lied to me and I knew if anyone was going to tell me the way things were it was her.

Those brown eyes were unflinching as she replied.

"I know he would Jeff."

She said it with such conviction I felt the tears welling up in my eyes once again.

"Oh baby girl." I swallowed hugging her to me again. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear you say that."

I kissed her then. It wasn't a kiss of passion as it normally was between us when we were alone. It was a kiss of complete and utter love for a woman who was the light of my life and the centre of my world.

"You'll be OK Jeff." she promised as we broke apart and hugged one last time.

"We all will."

My Mother is a very wise woman that's all I'll say. She always seemed to know exactly what I needed.

She never said anything as the two of us came back down the stairs together but I saw the look of satisfaction on her face. I think she somehow knew those few moments alone with Lucy would be enough to recharge my spirit and give me the strength to return to Florida for the final preparation.

"Don't do it for them Jeff...do it for your Father."

Her words echoed through my head.

And gave me the final push I needed.

Launching day

Eleven days after my Father was laid to rest.

Major Anthony Douglas Cooper

Thirty Three

Colonisation Specialist

Engineer

Unmarried

Major David Robert Ross

Thirty Five

Urban planner

Engineer

Married

No kids.

Major Jackson Thomas Roach

Thirty Six

Botanist

Engineer

Divorced

Major Jefferson Grant Tracy

Thirty in three days time

Flight specialist

Engineer

Married

Two kids

The four us sat side by side in the massive yellow rocket ship faces blank, listening to the countdown.

Now was not the time to doubt ourselves. We'd all done this three times before.

Cooper crossed himself.

Ross crossed himself.

Roach crossed himself.

I breathed deeply and stared straight ahead of me.

_Ten_

My stomach churned

The Academy training

_Nine_

My fingers twitched

The Dog Fights

_Eight_

My heart doubled its beat

Hours of simulated flight

_Seven_

The beads of sweat dotted my forehead.

The study

_Six_

My eyes burned

The disappointments

_Five_

The bile rose in my throat

The risks

_Four_

I ran my tongue over my lips

My Momma's unwavering support

_Three_

My knuckles were white

My dear little Virgil

_Two_

My jaw clamped

My fearless little Scott

_One_

My eyes closed

My precious Lucy

The mighty engines roared into life.

The sound nearly deafened me.

My steady voice

"We have blast off Houston."

We heard a loud cheer from Base control.

The reply.

"That's a copy Pioneer One."

The minutes raced on and each one of them seemed like hours. The rocket vibrated and shook with awesome power in its preparation for lift-off. It had to happen at exactly the right time. It was up to me to make sure that it did.

I closed my eyes again as my whole body shuddered under the force of the man-made power beneath me.

It was then the picture entered my mind. The picture of a handsome young man with a great big smile and an old tattered hat calling to a little three year old boy to leave his Mother's side and take a ride with him on an old red tractor.

"Don't you be frightened little Jeff." the young man smiled. "Come on. Be brave. Daddy will look after you."

My eyes opened with a start.

I had avoided thinking about Dad in case it got the better of me. But it was obvious Dad had other ideas. He was right there with me and if nothing else could inspire me to pull this mission off he could.

Suddenly and from nowhere the fire ignited in my soul and reared up in my belly with a new found brilliance.

"I swear to God I can fly this bastard better than any man ever will Daddy." I said through gritted teeth and looking upwards to the heavens. "And I'm tellin' you now if you're up there watchin' me that's what the hell I'm gonna do."

With that I lifted Pioneer One from Cape Kennedy to the applause of the world.

There was no way I would fail my Father.

We were on our way to the moon.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

_Author's Note - A very brave and courageous young man!_

NEXT CHAPTER - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE - JEFF TRACY - PART 2 - THE TOUGH YEARS


	16. CHAPTER 8 PART 2 WORDS OF WISDOM FROM ...

_Author's Note - I am very humbled by the positive reviews and encouragement to continue towards the end of this story. This chapter is one of love and loss and has not been an easy one to write. I hope I have done it justice. Yours ... mcj_

**CHAPTER 8 - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE**

**JEFF TRACY - PART 2 - THE TOUGH YEARS**

Dinner is almost ready and Kyrano has just sent word from the kitchen that we should all charge our glasses and make our way to the dining room. Looks like the real celebrations are finally going to begin. There's a birthday cake to cut, speeches to be made and a special gift to be given. I really should get moving since I'm in charge of things in there but I've gotten myself rather comfortable in my favourite armchair and for the first time in a very long time, I am actually enjoying sitting back sipping my cognac and mulling over the past.

It's been a long time since I've allowed myself to think about the old days and to tell you the truth it hasn't been half as hard as I thought it was going to be.

So far.

It's been humbling remembering my early life on the farm and how Mother had to go without so many things for Dad to give me a decent education; extremely satisfying to recount my rapid elevation through the ranks of the Air Force and down-right daunting to try to convey to you the magnitude of my experiences in the NASA Space Programme.

But above all, it's been nothing less than therapeutic for me to let my guard down and permit myself to think about my wife again. At first I thought I'd feel nothing but the old familiar pain but at the moment I actually feel rather wonderful.

It felt so good to remember how she looked the night we first met in London, how smitten I was with her from the beginning, how pathetic we were trying to hide Scott's conception from our parents, and how deeply and completely we loved each other. I really should have allowed myself the luxury of remembering our time together sooner.

Maybe my Father was right about that after all.

Dad always said a man needs to constantly think about his past and treat what's happened in it like the pages of a history book. He said a man should read his pages often, learn from the mistakes and try to make tomorrow's history better as a result of it.

Well tonight is the first time I've ever taken that advice and as far as I'm concerned I'm pretty happy with the history I've reviewed so far.

Obviously there are a few things I'd have done much differently if I had my time over again. I'd definitely have found a better way to tell Dad about not wanting to take over the farm for one thing and I most certainly would never have lied to my Mother about Scott being premature either. Then there's the embarrassment of knowing Mom and Dad knew all about the "Farmhouse incident" too.

Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but I've thought long and hard about that night and there's no way I'd change anything about my magical first time with Lucy Evans. Yes OK I know I shouldn't have done it and it's a nightmare living with Mother holding it over my head but it was one hell of a pleasurable experience and I'm not about to apologise for having it.

It's funny how I never applied Dad's advice to myself yet I've always been determined to incorporate it into the day to day running of International Rescue.

Dad called what I do reviewing history.

I call it debriefing.

I make sure my boys thoroughly debrief after each mission no matter how late it is or how tired they are. Debriefing is essential in an organisation like ours and those volatile young men of mine sometimes don't like me pointing it out. That's when I really put my foot down. It is essential for their emotional well-being that they focus on what went right and deal immediately with the fall-out of anything that goes wrong. However, it's not always easy convincing five grumpy boys who only want a shower, a hot meal and some decent shut-eye they need to do it and every now and then there are some heated words exchanged.

However heated words are rare and I think the outfit is doing pretty well at the moment. International Rescue is a top notch organisation and I'm happy to say the debriefings I conduct cover many more successes than failures. Nevertheless I am acutely aware failure does happen and failure ultimately means loss of human life.

Like me, all five of my boys take failure personally but as their Father, the fact they are so hard on themselves worries me sometimes. My sons are extremely courageous young men but they are only human beings with extraordinary machines at their disposal when it all comes down to it. They are not the Gods or knights in shining armour the authorities make them out to be and I don't think they should have to deal with the unrealistic expectations of others who think and expect they can perform miracles.

"I wish you had the same benevolent outlook on life when you were younger son." Mother once piped up from the corner during one such debriefing. "It was certainly a different story around here twenty years ago."

I remember swinging around to look at her quite annoyed at the comment let alone the unwelcome interruption and simply being met with a pair of knowing dark blue eyes which dared me to open my mouth and argue with her.

I didn't.

I know her eyes saw me at my worst twenty years ago and no matter how much I try to forget it, everything Mother has probably told you about how I conducted myself in the tough years is absolutely true.

Like her, I really wish I would have had the same outlook as I do now. Life certainly wouldn't have been so difficult to deal with then and maybe I would have coped better with what life threw my way that dreadful Sunday night in March when my perfect world blew apart right in front of my eyes.

Maybe I would have allowed my little boys to cry for their Mother instead of forcing them to grow up overnight, hide their feelings and be men.

Maybe I would have allowed them to see my own devastation instead of bottling everything up inside me.

Maybe I wouldn't have thrown myself into my work like I did trying to forget her.

Maybe I would have stayed a Daddy instead of turning into a Father.

Maybe I wouldn't have gone off the rails and broken down either.

I don't know.

All I do know is I can't change that dreadful period of my history no matter how much I wish I could.

Like Dad said, all a man can do is learn from his mistakes and try to make tomorrow's history better. I really made a conscious effort to be a better Father once I pulled myself together and began to cope without Lucy but it was hard; damn hard; and I'm sure Mother has told you I made some pretty dreadful mistakes raising the boys.

It's also difficult to change old habits. After all these years I'm still a self-professed workaholic and despite the fact I am very aware of it, I simply can't help myself. Work was my best friend back then. Work took the pain away. Work gave me an outlet for my emotions. Work was the answer to everything.

In a way it still is.

A familiar voice suddenly startles me. It's Mother standing in the doorway.

"Why is it no surprise to me that you're still in here Jeff Tracy?" she's exclaiming. "I swear you can't leave off working for more than five minutes."

I open my mouth to speak but I know I'm not going to get a word in edgewise.

"I'm absolutely sure whatever it is you're up to in here at the moment can wait long enough for you to come inside and eat. I'll have you know everyone is fading away to a shadow waiting for you to grace us with your presence and Kyrano isn't too happy about the delay all this is causing either."

I rise to my feet completely apologetic and head to the bar to top up my cognac.

"I'm sorry Mother." I mumble uncomfortably "I guess I got myself caught up in things as usual."

Well that was definitely the wrong thing to say! She's on to me like a flash.

"That would be right! We can't even have a party around here without losing you to some new scheme you're planning. That mind of yours never stops ticking over son. Nothing but work, work, and more work every single day of the year!"

I shake my head at her tone. That woman is only five foot two inches tall and isn't even a hundred pounds but I swear when she gets going she sounds like she's six foot ten and has a loaded gun in her pocket.

"I wasn't thinking about work this time Mom." I protest walking towards her. "Honest."

"Don't be so stupid Jeff. Of course you were!" she snaps albeit light-heartedly. "You know as well as I do that you don't think about anything else."

I shrug and allow myself to be admonished. I learnt a long time ago the only way to placate this little human dynamo is to agree with her and if she's going to start on me about my work ethics I know I may as well give up the argument now.

"I'm sorry Mom." I smile placing my arm around her waist. "Let's go in shall we?"

There are varying comments as the two of us enter the dining room.

"'Bout time Dad."

Alan of course. Far too much to say as usual!

"My stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

That's a bit dramatic don't you think Virgil?

"He's not the only one starving to death around here Dad."

As usual Scott is siding with his brother.

"You two never think about anything but food."

John.

Uh oh. There's the frown of disapproval. Scott doesn't appreciate John's dry wit at the best of times but its worse when he's listening to it on an empty stomach. Then he has no tolerance at all.

"Yeah well we all know why we're starving in the first place don't we?"

Scott's comment silences everyone and suddenly the air feels like it's been cut in half with a knife. Now Gordon's the centre of the unwelcome attention and Gordon's face is turning redder than his hair.

"Hey leave off will you guys! I've apologised to everyone a hundred times already OK?" he says defensively. "The whole thing was a simple misunderstanding."

No-one's buying that one from the renowned prankster of the family.

Gordon does his usual about-face and starts laying the blame on Alan.

"And it was all your fault little brother as you well know."

It's hard to keep a straight face while all this is going on. Of course it was Alan's fault but there's no way Gordon's ever going to get him to admit to that.

"What the hell did I do?" Alan snaps.

"We know what you were doing!" laughs Virgil, turning to wink at Tin-Tin.

"We all do!" grins Gordon before bursting into laughter and ruffling Alan's hair.

Now it's Tin-Tin's turn to put her head down and the poor girl is turning scarlet. Alan is for once completely speechless; livid and totally mortified all at the same time.

I shake my head as I pull back Mother's chair and invite her to sit down. I swear the situation around here never changes. The teasing and sometimes not so jovial aggravation around this table is a trademark of my sons. Normally I'd be adding to it by now telling them all to bite their tongues and settle down but I'm afraid I'm not in a position to say anything to anyone at the moment.

That dreadful lump has just reared up in my throat again and I'm trying to find somewhere to look so no-one notices I'm having trouble dealing with my emotions. I quickly clear my throat and turn to leave.

"Excuse me one moment will you." I murmur making a hurried and ungracious exit towards the bathroom.

There's a unified chorus of "DAD!" as I leave the room as fast as my legs can carry me.

Safe in the confines of the four walls of one of the downstairs bathrooms I allow myself the privilege of wiping away the tears that unexpectedly welled up from nowhere when I saw that empty chair across the table from Mother. There's always a chair that remains empty at our dinner table and it has never seemed more noticeably empty to me than it does tonight.

"Mommy's chair."

No-one is allowed to sit in the vacant chair to the right of mine no matter what.

It was the childhood creed of my sons; a silent and painful expression of their grief when they were so very young and I wouldn't allow them to talk about their Mother. I hated looking at it but Mother said the boys needed to let their grief out somehow and something as simple as refusing to sit in her place at the dinner table was the only way they knew how to do it.

It cuts me to the bone to remember they needed to cope with their grief like that, let alone face the fact that they still place such a high significance on leaving her place empty now. Tonight is a special family celebration and they obviously want everyone to be at the table with their Grandmother; even the Mother they haven't had in their lives for over twenty years. I guess I should be touched by the sentiment but let me tell you right now... it hurts.

I splash water on my face and look into the mirror. I have to pull myself together and get back to Mother's party. There's only one way I know to bring myself under control when I get like this. I have to say the words. Words I uttered into my mirror day after day after day all those years ago just to keep myself going.

"Get on with it Tracy and stop complaining life kicked you in the gut. She's dead and that ain't ever gonna change. "

I slam down the towel almost in anger.

For the love of God what the heck am I doing in here? I don't need to talk to mirrors anymore. It's only an empty chair at a dining table for God's sake. Lucy has nothing to do with anything anymore.

I'm over her now.

I AM over her.

I AM.

I drop my head and shake it in complete disgust at myself.

Who am I trying to kid?

If I'm over my Lucy what the hell am I doing in here?

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

**Stage Three (continued) - The Man in Love **

Pioneer One made it back safely from the moon and the four of us were paraded in front of the world as some kind of heroes. Each of us had had a role to play in the success of the mission and we had all risen to the difficult and life threatening challenge admirably. The whole thing went like a copybook. I took the ship up exactly as I had been trained to do. I landed the capsule on the moon exactly as I'd practiced for six long years. I even landed the blasted thing in Utah less than five hundred yards from the target site.

The world heaped accolades on Major Jefferson Grant Tracy for his brilliant piloting skills. I simply breathed a sigh of relief I had kept a level head long enough to do what NASA had hand-picked me to do. Talk to me about skill if you like but luck sure had a lot to do with things back then.

The President was on hand when we were retrieved from the capsule.

So were our wives.

And the blasted media.

Colonisation had begun and the world couldn't get enough of it.

There were so many photos taken of us with the President. The first salute still in our spacesuits ... the first shake of his hand ... the congratulatory smiles ... and one Astronaut looking in the opposite direction the whole time, his face drawn towards someone else...

"I can't believe you walked past the President of the United States to kiss me like that in front of the whole world Jeff." Lucy giggled as we were conveyed by NASA from the media site in Utah to the plane waiting to take us back to Cape Kennedy.

"Yeah?" I smiled wrapping my arm around her and pretending to be surprised. "Can't understand the logic of me doing that!"

"Of course you can. I'm important you know!" she grinned nestling into my body.

"I know you are!" I smiled back. "It's not every person I'd prioritise over the President."

"I love you." she breathed as the car doors opened and the military police motioned us out of the car.

"I love you too baby girl." I responded and kissed her again.

The flashes went off everywhere.

My ire suddenly began to ebb within me again.

My reunion with Lucy was personal and I didn't take too kindly to having how we felt about each other broadcast in all the newspapers. But her warning glance and gentle squeeze of my hand told me I should remain silent. I guessed she was right. I was public property at the moment and the media knew they could do whatever they wanted. Luckily I didn't care about anything except being home again, holding Lucy and seeing my two little boys.

Mother was there with them when we arrived at Cape Kennedy. Virgil's little face lit up when he saw me and Scott's blue eyes sparkled with double their usual excitement.

"There's Daddy Grandma!" he exclaimed trying to break free from Mother's vice like grip.

He frowned unhappily as Mother continued to restrain him behind the barrier tape.

"Daddy! Daddy!" he called out to me, desperately waving to me within an inch of his life. "Here I am over here Daddy!"

My head turned in the direction of my precious eldest son and at that moment I didn't care what the protocol was. I knelt down right there and then in front of everyone and called him to come to me. Mother let him go and he darted underneath the barrier tape and ran into my outstretched arms. I threw him up into the air happily. They didn't need any more pictures of my family after that. I had just given them everything they needed. The photograph taken of me reuniting with my eldest son and the President smiling in the background went on to grace the front cover of just about every newspaper in the world.

"Colonisation ...the next generation." the story read.

Well to be honest with you I really didn't care about Colonisation at the moment. All I wanted was to go home and be with my family and after enduring another eight hours of interviews, medical assessments and a top secret debriefing I was finally allowed to do it.

My first night home in two months was certainly a night to remember. Mother beamed with pride as we all watched the newscast of the landing together and sipped a special bottle of champagne. Scott glowed with adulation and had to be told the story of me walking on the moon over and over and over again. His face literally shone as I also recounted how it felt bringing the capsule down in Utah.

"Were you scared Daddy?" he asked gravely, his blue eyes wider than saucers.

"A bit" I smiled tousling his dark curls. "But I knew Grandpa was looking after me so I guessed everything was gonna be OK."

He nodded in complete understanding.

"Grandma said Grandpa was looking after you from heaven." he agreed.

I turned and smiled at Mother. Her eyes filled with tears even though she smiled back. We both missed Dad terribly.

Virgil was still too young to understand the magnitude of where I had been but he followed me around everywhere wearing his beautiful never-ending smile and ever hopeful that Scott would let him have some of my attention.

"What's up with you Virgie?" I exclaimed sweeping him up into my arms and laughing as he squealed with delight. "Did you miss Daddy?" I asked looking him full in the face. His smile became even wider.

"Hey." frowned four year old Scott possessively. "You're MY Daddy."

"I'm Virgil's Daddy too you know." I reminded him firmly and watched his handsome little features fall. He was such a dominating personality and he hated sharing me with anyone. I began to laugh again at the look I was getting and without warning bent down to scoop him up too.

"That tickles Daddy!" he giggled as I ran my unshaven face across his and made a complete fuss of them both.

"You spoil those two you know." came Lucy's voice from the doorway.

"Of course I do." I began, turning around to face her still holding the two boys in my arms. I immediately startled at the sight of her, arms folded, legs crossed, leaning against the wall.

She looked absolutely stunning.

She'd changed into a dazzling low-cut dress and done something special to her hair so that her chestnut curls sat loosely on top of her head, highlighting her pretty face, big brown eyes and full, sensuous lips.

The scent of lavender filled the whole room.

"You look pretty Mommy." Scott piped up next to my ear.

Her eyes met mine.

"Wow Mrs Tracy." I breathed setting the boys down on the floor and moving forward to brush her lips with mine. "You sure do."

"Wow yourself Star man." she said matter-of-factly turning away from me and taking Scott's hand. "Don't go getting yourself all worked up. We've still got kids to feed."

With that she ushered us into the dining room.

All through dinner, the two of us stared into each other's eyes hardly saying a word.

It had been two months since we'd last been together and as my eyes roved from her face to her shoulders and lower, it felt more like two years. AlI I wanted was to be alone with her; kiss that perfumed skin; let down that hair and ...

I closed my eyes, took a large gulp of my scotch, and tried to stop thinking about it.

I had to.

Across the table was Mother.

Mother was still with us for a few more days and I knew we had to entertain her. Entertaining Mother wasn't easy at the best of times but with Lucy looking as sensual as she was in that dress and my whole body aching as a result of it, it was almost damned impossible.

Every now and then I would try to make idle conversation but the whole time my lips moved Lucy and I continued to make love to each other with our eyes.

I wanted her.

She wanted me.

And Mother wanted to talk about the weather.

"Don't you agree Jeff?" came the terse and very pointed question about the current dry spell we were having in Houston. It appeared Mother had become acutely aware she was having nothing but a one-sided conversation with herself and wanted things to change.

"Huh?" I asked absently not taking my eyes off Lucy's.

"What about you young lady?" she continued.

Lucy startled and looked in Mother's direction. "Pardon me Mrs. Tracy?"

Mother rolled her eyes and admonished both of us.

"Have either of you been listening to anything I've been saying for the past half an hour?" she demanded.

We both shook our heads and looked at each other sheepishly.

"We're sorry ma'am." I replied sitting up straight and preparing to be attentive. "Now what was it were you saying again?"

Let's face it you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know what was about to happen between Lucy and me. By now even Mother had worked it out and decided the best thing she could do was excuse herself.

"By the look of you two I think I'd better make sure these boys of yours are safely tucked up in bed for the night." she announced standing up and calling Scott and Virgil to come after her.

"Yeah ...that'd be good. Thanks Mom." I replied in a vague and preoccupied voice.

"But I want Daddy to put me to bed." protested Scott folding his arms and refusing to leave the table.

"Daddy's busy." Mother said firmly.

"No he isn't!" he pouted.

"Trust me. Yes he is." she stressed hauling him out of his chair by the arm and pausing to pick-up Virgil.

All I can say is thank goodness for Mothers.

I couldn't wait to be with Lucy any longer.

I was thirty years old. She was twenty eight and the two of us had been lovers for nearly six years. Our love life had always been full and rich and good and in our time together the two of us thought we'd pretty well experienced it all. But let me tell you right now, nothing ever came close to what we experienced together the night I returned from the moon. It was passion of an intensity we had never known; pleasure we never reached the heights of again. It was complete and utter fulfilment of my love for her.

And it created what we hoped would be our baby girl.

"This one's a girl for sure." Lucy said confidently to Mother as she entered her fifth month. "I've hardly been sick at all this time you know and I was dreadfully ill with both the boys."

Mother, who was visiting us from Kansas for a week, looked dubious.

"Well I hope for your sake it is a little girl Lucille." she replied hastily. "But just remember there hasn't been a daughter in the Tracy family for over sixty years dear."

Lucy looked over at me. As far as she was concerned history counted for nothing.

"Jeff promised me a daughter when Virgil was born so this time I know it's a girl." she said patting her bump and smiling with contentment. "I can hardly wait to see what she looks like you know. I hope she looks like Jeff."

Mother didn't say anything else but her eyes said it all as she glanced uneasily in my direction. I knew what that look meant. That baby I'd given her had better be a girl if I knew what was good for me that was for sure!

The months leading up to the baby's birth were months of great turmoil and change in my life. It had now been five months since I'd returned from the moon and I had been recalled into the space programme. Pioneer Two was to be my next mission. Two more years of training, coping with the media and putting my family last.

My Father's words reared up in my mind.

"Bein' famous is one thing. Bein' true to what's important in your life is another. "

I knew the most important thing in my life was my family and now that we were to have our third child I wasn't prepared to put them last anymore. I had a beautiful wife, two very highly spirited sons who needed me around and a third one whose birth was just around the corner. Not only that, I didn't agree with a lot of the things going on in the space programme at the moment. I guess for want of a better way of putting it; I had grown up and was no longer prepared to accept the constant failures of vital equipment. NASA needed better equipment; reliable equipment; equipment that would do the job right the first time.

"Major; we all agree with you of course." drawled Colonel Casey swinging around in his executive Office chair and looking extremely bored. "But there is simply no supplier on this planet who can deliver the sort of exemplary standards you're asking me for."

Casey hated being challenged and not many people dared to do it but his apathy about things that were important had really started to get the better of me.

"Well someone should Sir." I flashed back. "I waste far too much of my time and patience testing equipment I know is substandard in the first place."

"It's your **_job _**Major." he stressed looking me straight in the eye. "So I suggest you stop complaining and go and do what we pay you to do."

It was those arrogant words that not only made me furious but also set me thinking.

I had some very definite ideas about the sort of equipment NASA needed and my Engineering background gave me the ability to design it. I was so angry with Jim Casey that day I went home and did some preliminary work of my own. After a few weeks all I could say was the suppliers we had weren't trying very hard. What I put together without too much thought was much better than what we had at the moment and after yet another disappointing failure with the new simulator which in reality would have been fatal, I opened my mouth to say so.

You know I really thought they'd listen to me but all I got for my trouble was a bawling out that I had become far too outspoken since the mission and I needed to remember my place.

"Just get on with what you're good at Major!" Casey barked with real authority. "You're in this programme to fly not argue."

My disenchantment grew. I knew what I was talking about and I knew Casey knew I did too.

It was then I spoke to my buddy Jackson Roach who had left the Space Programme after Pioneer One and returned to the Air Force. He was now a Colonel and had a fair bit of influence where it counted. My proposal was basic. If I designed equipment that was superior to what was around on the market at the moment what were the chances of the Air Force taking it on?

Jack and I were great buddies and we had become very close during our time together in the space programme. I respected him and he respected me. His answer was brief and to the point.

"Count me in." was his reply. "The Air Force is always on the look out for better equipment."

I was elated. If NASA wasn't interested in improving things, the Air Force certainly was.

Then I had to do some really hard yards.

I needed to locate someone who would manufacture for me. With the name Jefferson Tracy and still riding high on my worldwide fame, that was the easiest job of all. I soon located a supplier prepared to conform to my standards and meet the stringent time-frames I wanted to set.

My confidence grew.

I knew I could go out on my own if I was prepared to take the risk.

But I also knew I needed to provide for my young family.

It really wasn't a good time for me to be making such life altering changes, what with Lucy only two months short of giving birth for the third time and Mother living alone on a non-profitable farm. We didn't have a home of our own and I didn't want to take up Mom's offer and return to live in Kansas. I'd feel too guilty about the farm then and feel obliged to attend to it. I thanked Mother for offering to help me but said Kansas simply wasn't an option. My research indicated I needed to be close to New York if the business was to grow and the most obvious place to live appeared to be Boston.

But as I pored over house prices and all the other expenses involved with setting up a business, I started to think I was crazy for even considering it. Discontent aside, NASA really did look after my family well and the whole idea of branching out on my own was rapidly becoming a very daunting and expensive prospect.

I really needed to talk things over with someone about the risks of doing all this; someone who knew me well and could be relied on to tell me the truth. Only one person I knew fitted that bill.

Lucy.

The night I broached the subject she was lying on the couch with her head in my lap watching television. I was running my fingers through her chestnut curls with a far-away look on my face, thinking maybe I should just appreciate how lucky I was rather than wanting more out of life than what I had. After all there were worse places to work than the Space programme, more mundane jobs that paid far less money, and people much less agreeable to deal with than the indomitable Colonel Casey.

Suddenly and without warning she reached over to the coffee table and turned off the remote control.

"OK Jeff." she began matter-of-factly. "What's on your mind?"

"What do you mean Luce?" I asked in fake surprise.

She gave me that look of hers which reminded me of the first night we met and I had pretended I hadn't been looking at her from the shadows. Lucy Evans was no fool then and she was no fool now.

"Jeff ... you've been humming and haaing around me all night and I think I've been married to you long enough to know when something's bothering you and you need to talk it over with me."

Suddenly she grimaced and pressed her hand to her distended stomach

"Are you OK?" I asked with real concern as she exhaled and moved about uncomfortably.

"I'm fine. Just one too many exuberant kicks from your daughter." she reassured me before her face broadened into a wide smile.

"Looks like she's got the same intuition as me Daddy. She knows there's something wrong too."

"Well I'm afraid she's right." I confessed. "Something is bothering me Luce and it's bothering me a lot."

With that everything tumbled out of me; how unhappy I was with what was going on in the space programme, the fact Casey was reluctant to listen or improve things and finally, as I swallowed and watched her carefully ... what I'd been working on for the future.

She lay looking up at me in silence.

When she didn't comment I took it that she wasn't happy and immediately went into damage control. I didn't want to upset her and make her feel insecure so close to having the baby. I told her I knew I was probably only dreaming. I added I knew we didn't have a home to live in and that things might not work out. I shook my head and said it was a stupid idea. I told her to forget she ever heard me mention it. I'd continue to put up with the inefficiencies at the Base and stay on in the space programme. After all it was only a job and it paid the bills...

Before I could completely and utterly destroy my ambitions she reached up and placed a quieting finger over my lips.

"You said me coming to the States to live with you was a stupid idea once." she pointed out. "And it wasn't as it turned out. Right?"

"No " I replied honestly "But ..."

"No buts Jeff." she interrupted firmly. "Now you answer me this truthfully. Where do you want to be in twenty years time? Still in the space programme?"

I frowned at her.

"Hell no!" I exclaimed abruptly.

"Well where do you want to be then?" she continued. "Do you want to return to the Air Force?"

I shook my head. I'd grown out of the Air Force and Red Flag six years ago.

"All right then." she said. "So unless you can give me any other options I'm afraid you're back to your old career of being a billionaire lazing around on a tropical island."

I certainly didn't expect her to say that. Neither did I appreciate it. Here I was twisting myself inside out worrying about how I could provide for her and the kids and all she could do was make fun of me and treat things like it was all some great big joke.

"Don't be so sarcastic Lucille. It doesn't suit you." I snapped and then began to sulk.

I don't think she appreciated my tone either. Her smile faded.

"I'll have you know JEFFERSON that when I first came to live with you in Houston, YOU were the one who told ME you were going to be a billionaire." she pointed out bluntly.

I reddened. I'd completely forgotten those funny little conversations we used to have holding hands in the Houston twilight.

"I'm sorry." I murmured feeling like a total fool. "I do recall myself saying that."

Suddenly her eyes rounded in mock despair.

"Don't tell me you were lying to me!" she teased pretending to be dismayed. "Spending all your billions was the only reason I stayed!"

Yeah ...

If only you were here with me now my beautiful baby girl, you could be spending as much of my money as you liked. I'd give you all of it just to hold you in my arms again ...

Ummm...

Yeah ...

Anyway after a comment like that one I gave up trying to be serious and allowed myself to laugh.

"Is that so young lady!" I ribbed gathering her up in my arms and kissing her on the lips. "Surely my good looks, wit and charm are worth more to you than money."

"Maybe!" she giggled as I kissed her again.

"And living with two kids in an apartment block in Houston is a much better idea than lying in the sun enjoying ourselves on a tropical island." I teased, kissing her for a third time. "Right?"

"Wrong!" she corrected me with a light hearted slap on my arm. "And in case you've forgotten Mr. Billionaire, two kids are soon to be three!"

With that thought in my mind, I stopped fooling around and looked urgently into her eyes.

"That's why I need you to tell me what to do Luce." I pleaded. "All I want is for you to be happy and if you don't want to take the risk with the business I'll shelve the plans and stay on in the space programme."

As always the deep, calculating eyes analysed me carefully and her steadfast gaze returned mine.

"You've got to be happy in all this too Jeff." she said quietly. "And I know you're not and haven't been since your Father died."

After a short pause where she obviously weighted things up one last time her steady voice delivered the verdict.

"So do it then."

My face lit up with complete delight.

"You mean it Luce?" I queried almost with disbelief.

"Of course I mean it." she said seriously. "If you think you can make it in business and you know it's going to make you happy, stop doubting yourself and leave the space programme."

And that was that; no protests about insecurity or money; no complaints about moving away or having to live in another city. All she cared about was that I needed to be happy and we would all be together as a family.

And you ask me why I still miss her.

Yeah well I do.

I resigned from the space programme two weeks later and from the reaction I got from everyone involved, you would think the world had come to an end in Houston.

The hierarchy in NASA were devastated and I was unceremoniously hauled in front of Colonels and Generals all demanding to know why and asking that I re-consider. I was promised a promotion to the rank of Colonel if I stayed. I was offered even more specialised training. I was offered everything.

No-one wanted to say why.

"Major, this is a matter I didn't intend to raise with you until after Pioneer Two. "began General Harding uncomfortably. "And what I'm about to tell you has to stay within these four walls do you understand?"

I nodded my head and looked at him expectantly. Everything I'd seen and done for the past six and a half years had to be kept within four walls so what was so damned different about this?

"Err... Colonel Casey has informed me he wants to take early retirement in a few years and I've told him the only way I'll approve it is if there's someone capable of taking over the space programme. That someone is you Major. "

I stood there stunned. Now the reason for all the pressure fell into place, particularly the grilling I'd received from Casey when I'd put in my resignation. My decision would not just inconvenience the space programme. It would make a great big hole in Casey's retirement plans and he didn't like that at all.

Being promoted to the rank of Colonel at only thirty years of age and assuming full control of the space programme was a one mighty big incentive to stay and for a couple of days I shelved my plans and actually started to consider it. But I knew Casey still had at least two years left to go and there was no way I could tolerate the way things were for that long.

I stood firm and reiterated my decision to go

The media blew it all up saying I'd had a falling out with Casey. NASA issued a statement denying everything and said contrary to what was being reported Major Jefferson Tracy was leaving on good terms with both Colonel Casey and the space programme and was simply exercising "one of his many options".

Lucy and I began to make plans for the transition. I would leave the programme in December after the baby had been born and she had recovered. I travelled to Boston and put down a contract on a house. The two of us stayed up late each night planning our future and working out ways to lessen the impact on the children.

"Aren't you just a little bit scared about all of this Mrs Tracy?" I asked as we lay together in each other's arms.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't Jeff." she acknowledged. "But if we stick to our plans and live modestly we'll be OK."

Well coping with our young family moving to Boston was nothing compared to coping with the news she was about to get after life moved forward into October and she endured eighteen hours of misery and the difficult drawn out delivery of our third child.

"Please ... I'd like to be the first one to hold her." she gasped through her pain and exhaustion as the piercing wail of our newborn baby echoed throughout the delivery room.

I lowered my head not daring to make eye contact with her with as the Doctor nodded and lifted up the baby. I knew she wasn't going to like what she was about to see.

"Luce ..." I swallowed. "It's another boy."

Lucy didn't say anything but tears welled up in her eyes when she saw I was right.

I felt terrible as her face crumbled in dreadful disappointment.

"I'm so sorry baby. "I apologised watching her bottom lip shudder.

Then the tears overflowed and despite her efforts to stop them they began to roll freely down her cheeks. I looked at her with pure dismay.

"Honey ...please ... don't go getting yourself all upset." I pleaded.

She wiped her face with a trembling clammy hand.

"I'm not upset." she murmured turning her head away from me. "I'm tired."

I didn't know what else to say. This was our last baby and I had promised her when Virgil was born that the third child I gave her would be a girl. How could I have been so stupid as to promise her something I knew I couldn't control?

"I told you so Jeff." Mother berated me when she arrived at the hospital with Scott and Virgil. "Tracy men only breed boys. It's the way things are in this family."

She stopped herself at my look of complete dejection.

"And by the look of you young man, a certain young lady's not taking the news too well either."

"No momma." I replied glumly. "She isn't."

"Well that'll teach you for making promises you can't keep won't it?" she scolded. "That little girl of yours has accepted most things you've thrown her way 'till now but even I don't know how the heck you're going to get yourself out of this one."

"Neither do I" I sighed. "I've never seen her so upset about anything."

A reassuring hand then rested on my shoulder.

"All you have to do is find the right words to say to her son and let nature do the rest. You know as well as I do she's a wonderful mother and absolutely adores her little boys."

I listened gratefully to the much-needed advice and at least felt a little better when we all went inside to see her.

When we entered her hospital room she was sitting half upright and holding the baby in her arms. He was complaining a little and turning his head towards her, no doubt looking to be fed.

I braced myself. Mother had said to find the right words.

"Well," I remember saying to myself. "... here goes nothing."

"Hey there!" I said brightly. "How's my favourite Mommy?"

"Sore." she said unhappily. "You ought to try giving birth sometime Jeff."

At mother's insistent flick of the head I immediately went forward and sat on the bed, putting a firm arm around her shoulders. Scott and Virgil clamoured onto the bed too. I placed my other arm underneath hers and helped her cradle the baby.

"He's cute princess." I said kissing her gently on the forehead.

"I guess so." she shrugged petulantly.

"He's certainly different." Mother interceded coming forward and looking at him carefully. "It's actually a bit hard to see who he looks like at the moment."

"He doesn't look like anyone Mrs Tracy." Lucy sulked. "He's bald, blue eyed and another boy."

Her eyes lifted in silent accusation to mine.

I tried to pretend I didn't notice and gave her my most charming Tracy smile.

"Oh come on Luce. Lighten up huh? I know you're unhappy about it at the moment but look at him... Honey ...he's really a beautiful little boy."

She averted her face.

"I didn't say he wasn't did I? I just wanted a girl for my own sake that's all."

I sighed and looked at mother. Nothing seemed to be working. Mother's face told me to remain silent.

By and by in the minutes that followed the baby complained a little more and finally she conceded to allow him to suckle at her breast. As he did I watched her whole face soften. Mother was right. Lucy absolutely adored her babies and there was no way she wasn't going to love this one too.

"I'd like to call him John." she said looking down at his tiny swaddled frame and then at me. "Is that OK with you Jeff?"

I nodded my head in agreement. John was her Father's name and much to my own delight it was also the name of one of the most respected Astronauts the world had ever seen.

Senator John Glenn.

And so little John Glenn Tracy survived his very controversial and rocky entrance into the world and came home to join his two big brothers and an uncertain future as his Daddy prepared to leave the NASA space programme.

But according to Mother I had unwittingly started a space programme of my own.

"Dear Lord I'm sure something must have happened to you when you were up there on the moon son!" Mother exclaimed trying to remain calm as she walked up and down trying to settle a screaming, hysterical baby. "I've never heard a baby so unhappy about things in my life."

"Oh Mom leave off!" I joked holding out my arms to take him. "Nothing happened to me. He's just a different personality type to Scott and Virgil that's all."

"Different!" she exclaimed as the pandemonium continued. "He's certainly different all right. He winds himself up into a terrible state if his mother isn't holding him; frets like crazy; doesn't feed. Jeff I'm telling you ... I'm convinced ... something must have happened to you up there and what ever it was wasn't good."

"Maybe something's wrong with me." Lucy offered, tears filling her tired, sleepless eyes. "I've been worried for three weeks that my milk's not right."

"Of course it isn't you dear." Mother reassured her and then frowned at me. "It was that trip to the moon I swear. All that moon dust and lack of gravity must have altered your cell composition Jeff."

I burst into laughter.

"My WHAT Mom?" I gasped hysterically.

Mother folded her arms and gave me "the look".

"I think you know what particular cells I'm talking about young man! Do you know what I think?"

I rolled my eyes. God knows what she was thinking now.

"I think it was a bad move conceiving this baby so soon after you came back from up there. You should have taken appropriate steps to get the moon well and truly out of your system Jeff before you went anywhere near Lucy."

"MOM!" I shrieked with embarrassment. "I can't believe you just said that."

Even Lucy stood there stunned at that one.

But nothing fazed Mother. She told it like she saw it and she truly believed John's insecure nature was the product of my "cell composition" undergoing some sort of alien transformation when I was walking on the moon. The worst part was after a few more days she actually had Lucy believing her.

"Maybe your Mother's right Jeff." she pondered as we walked the floor with John three long sleepless nights later. "You have to admit he's nothing whatsoever like the others."

"Now don't you start!" I warned her. "It's bad enough listening to Mom carry on all the time."

"But NASA didn't test that when you got back." she persisted. "Maybe they should have."

I really started to get aggravated then. I'd endured medical tests of every kind when I returned to earth from the moon and I wasn't about to put myself through that too. I swore I was going to gag my Mother if I heard one more word about my cell composition.

"Lucy nothing was swimming upside down when I gave you John." I reiterated. "He's fine."

The move to Boston one month later went without a hitch and we settled into our new house in a very nice neighbourhood. It was such a change from the pokey little apartment block NASA had provided for us in Houston. The boys now had somewhere to play, Lucy planted a lavender garden like the one she used to have in England and I had to master the art of using a lawn mower.

Not that I had much time to practice.

I'd received the first orders from the Air Force and it was time to get to work.

I was keen to make an impression and worked myself to a standstill to make sure I met the promised delivery date. The date was met and the product was brilliant.

"This is just what the Doctor ordered Jeff." Jack Roach enthused. "There's no doubt you're on a winner here."

Bigger and more frequent orders came my way from the Air Force.

Requests to modify equipment soon followed. I smiled. The requests had come from NASA.

I was asked to design a new type of fighter jet. I'd always wanted to do that.

I immediately patented the design.

More orders came out of that.

I had never been busier in my life.

And as I relaxed with my wife in the lavender scented garden of our Boston home and watched my little sons play, I knew one other thing too.

Jefferson Grant Tracy had never been happier.

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

**Stage Four - Losing Lucy**

Once the hectic pace of starting a new business had eased off, I began to worry about Mother. Now that we were living in Boston she seemed to be such a long way away in Kansas. Admittedly while she was carrying on about my cell composition I would have gladly put her on the first plane to Siberia but now with John only a few months short of his second birthday I started to have thoughts as to her future and what I should do about the farm.

After eighteen months of hard and careful work Lucy and I were doing very well in the business. We'd kept the same basic lifestyle we had become accustomed to in Houston and as a result had already paid off our home. Our modest but happy life, together with our relentless efforts to build up the business now placed us in the position of being able to afford a house for Mother. We decided to take a short holiday in Kansas, discuss the future of the farm and offer to bring her to live nearby.

"Not too close." I thought to myself as I took the turn-off towards the Farm after a long and weary drive from Boston. Travelling that far with three young children had been taxing and certainly not my idea of a holiday. However I had to allow myself to smile at the irony of it all. I'd never been allowed to leave the farm to take a holiday, now here I was returning to the same farm looking forward to having one.

As the old farmhouse came into view my heart suddenly welled up with an incredible sadness. I hadn't been back here since the day of Dad's funeral and I think a part of me still hadn't come to terms with the fact that he had actually died. My old life seemed so removed from my day to day reality now, yet, as I stepped out of the car and looked around my childhood home, it seemed like I'd never been away.

I looked towards the barn. How many hay bales had I hauled in there for Dad over the years?

I looked towards the porch. How many times had the two of us sat out there at the end of a hard day in the fields and talked about life?

I looked towards the back field. I'd never forgotten that hot summer afternoon Dad sat with me on the old red tractor and awkwardly explained about becoming a man.

The old red tractor. Dad had died under it. Seeing it sitting idly in the barren wheat field upset me more than I ever thought it could.

"You sure you're OK sweetheart?" came Lucy's concerned voice.

I turned my head to look down at her only to realise why she had asked me. My thoughts had run away with me and my cheeks were wet with tears. I quickly nodded, wiped my face before the boys noticed and went to open the trunk of the car.

"Err ... yeah ... just remind me to move that tractor into the barn after we unpack will you?"

"I didn't know you could drive a tractor Daddy." a little voice piped up beside me.

My sadness faded at the awe in his tone. I looked down and smiled at my eldest son.

"Of course I can drive a tractor Scott."

"Wow Daddy." he said, his face full of admiration. "You can do anything."

"_You can do anything." _

Back then those three little guys really thought I could. I was their hero.

Until the day I couldn't save their mother...

Yeah ... Daddy could do anything except that.

Mother of course was delighted to have us visit and as usual had cooked up enough food to last a year. Before we knew it we were seated at the familiar old dining table talking about the kids, talking about the business and finally ... talking about farm.

Mother was fifty four now and whilst she admitted she sometimes felt lonely she was still extremely happy where she was. She faced my questions about continuing to live on the farm with a good deal of trepidation. She knew the farm wasn't making any money but she didn't really want to move to Boston to live near us either. I looked at Lucy with surprise. I thought Mother would welcome the chance to be close to her Grandsons and interfere every chance she got.

"No Jeff, you and Lucille have your own life to live now." she pointed out. "I'm happy enough here. I don't owe anybody anything and I assure you your Father left me quite enough money to live out my life comfortably."

I shrugged. Well that was one matter ironed out. Now to deal with the other one ...

"WHAT?" came her shriek of complete astonishment as I put the last piece of my plan to her for approval.

As joint owners of the farm she agreed we should supplement our income by putting the farm to good use. She also agreed we should engage caretakers to farm the land and that they didn't need to live in the farmhouse.

What she didn't agree with was who I had approached to do it; Bill and Katie Rivers, a young married couple who lived in town. Bill had been laid off from his job and I'd known the two of them for years. I felt they were ideal but Mother certainly didn't think so and she made no secret of the fact that she didn't either.

"Excuse us please Lucille." she said tightly rising to her feet and almost dragging me onto mine. "Jeff and I need to discuss this issue more thoroughly."

Her voice rumbled. "IN PRIVATE!"

With that I was hauled out of Lucy's earshot and out onto the porch. Mother swung around on me and absolutely did her nut.

"What in hell's name are you playing at Jeff?" she demanded looking me up and down almost with distaste.

"What Momma?" I asked in a tone of complete confusion. "I'm not playing at anything."

"You and Katie Rivers in a business association together? I don't think so young man."

It suddenly dawned on me what Mother was talking about. She obviously knew, how I'll never know, that Katie and I had been ... errr ... ummm...intimate. Well I suppose I may as well admit to this too. The night I was with Katie in the back of Dad's car had been my first time. I'd been eighteen. She'd been nineteen. We'd been at a dance in town and I guess things got a little heavy on the way home. But the whole thing hadn't lasted more than three minutes, had only happened once and that once was well over fourteen years ago.

"Mom it's not what you're thinking." I began hastily not even trying to deny what had happened. "Katie's happily married now just like me."

"Yes and we've all heard that one before." Mother responded and then quickly shut her mouth. Lucy had come outside to join us.

"What's wrong?" she asked as the two of us coloured with guilt. "Is there a problem with the arrangements?"

"No everything's fine Luce." I said firmly putting my arm around her and deliberately kissing her cheek. "Mother just needed me to clear up a few minor concerns she had that's all."

But Lucy was far too astute for that. She knew something was up and with all my umming and ahhing together with Mother's over-the-top reaction; it didn't take her very long to figure it out. Then the teasing really started and she just about brought me to the end of my tether as we walked together that afternoon in the warm Kansas sunshine.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me a single thing about her Jeff." she taunted me. "All this time I thought I was your first and only."

It suddenly occurs to me where Alan gets his petulant side. I reacted to that statement exactly the way he reacts when someone teases him about Tin-Tin.

I dropped her hand, stood still and folded my arms in annoyance.

"Oh come on Lucy. I was twenty four with nearly five years in the Air Force when we first met. Surely you didn't expect me to still be a virgin!"

Her mischievous eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

"No more than you expected me to be one I guess." she shrugged.

My jealous streak reared up immediately. The thought of Lucy ever being in anyone else's arms but my own really made my blood boil. My eyebrows furrowed.

"But you were weren't you?" I demanded.

"I was twenty-two when we met Jeff." she winked. "What do you think?"

With that she danced off in front of me towards the barn laughing her head off. I fumed as I strode after her. I was determined to find out if she had been or not. I only had one real fault back then and my inability to deal with the thought of another man sharing my most valuable and loved possession was it.

"Did it happen in here Jeff?" she laughed spinning around amongst the hay bales.

"Forget about me Lucille!" I spat. "I want to know about _YOU!_"

She gave me the naughtiest grin I have ever seen and replied.

"I'll bet you do Jeff! Well I'm afraid that's for me to know and you NEVER to find out."

You have no idea what those words did to me. She aroused a passion in me right then and there. I was the only one allowed to experience her body intimately. I was the only one allowed to know how it felt. No-one else had the rights I had. I grasped her shoulders with my hands and pressed my lips roughly to hers. All I wanted to do at the moment was exercise those rights and if she kept tantalising me like this dear Lord I was going to do it. A green mist lowered over me as I looked down at that impish face.

"Tell me damn it." I breathed.

"No." she breathed.

That was it for me. She was mine and I didn't share with anyone. Before I knew it she was lying in my arms amongst the hay bales with more than just my jealousy spent.

"Was that better than your experience with Katie?" she winked as the two of us scrambled into our clothes.

"Tell me what I want to know and I'll comment." I scowled still in a real huff.

"Not a chance!" she laughed darting out of the barn and running back towards the house.

I shook my head and watched her go. She was such a beautiful, vibrant human being and even though she made me crazy sometimes I absolutely adored her.

Yeah ...

After our holiday ended, we said our goodbyes to Mother and left Kansas to return home. Katie and Bill were now engaged to run the farm and I felt happy I had finally forced myself to deal with the issues associated with my Father's death. I returned to Boston to face a mountain of new orders.

Work took up a large proportion of my day but even though I was really busy I always made the time to gaze with pride at my three growing little men.

Scott was seven now, tall, quick-witted and extremely advanced for his age. He played ball like a superstar, conversed like an adult and his favourite word around me was always "why".

"Why do you always have to put the engine there Daddy?" he'd ask watching carefully as I designed a new aircraft.

"Well where do you think it should go?" I asked with interest. His little hand reached forward to take the pencil from mine and the childish strokes he made across the design were well thought out and confident.

Then there was Virgil. He was about to turn four and was a well built, articulate little fellow who had grown out of Scott's shadow to have strong little personality of his own. Like Lucy, he loved the piano and loved to paint. Above all he loved to be noticed and appreciated. His favourite word when I was around was always "Look".

"Look Daddy." he would say scampering down the hall after me when I came home from work.

"What am I looking at today?" I would smile crouching down beside him. He would proudly display yet another work of art lovingly painted for me and beam with delight when I said how much I liked it.

And John.

John was nearly two; a handsome blue-eyed toddler with an intelligence far exceeding his age. He was a dreamy little boy who happily climbed onto my lap in the evenings while I sat and conversed with Lucy. The only thing that spoilt him in my opinion was the fact Lucy had to be right there the whole time. His dependence worried me. I didn't think it was normal that his world completely revolved around her.

His dependence was rather inconvenient at the moment too.

Lucy had taken ill with a virus a few days after our return from Kansas and it was hard for her to make John understand he needed to let her rest so she could recover. It even got to the point where I had to start coming home from work early to amuse John while she went and lied down for a while.

This had gone on for ages and three and half months later Lucy still wasn't well.

"I just can't shake this blasted thing Jeff." she complained. "I'm tired and washed out and I just feel sick to my stomach all day long."

"You're not pregnant are you Luce?" I smirked looking up from my work. I was promptly met with a glare of disapproval and half the laundry she was folding being thrown at my head.

"Don't be stupid." she scoffed. "You know as well as I do that's impossible. I've had an implant since John was born."

I shrugged and went back to designing my new aircraft.

"Maybe you should go back to the Doctor and get another course of drugs or something." I suggested a little while later. "Surely it should have cleared up by now."

"Hmmph I probably caught this thing lying with you in amongst those mouldy old hay bales in Kansas." she sniffed. "Those things were enough to make anyone sick."

"Oh so it's all my fault now is it?" I mocked with a great big grin on my face. "I get the blame for everything!"

Oh boy wasn't that the understatement of the year.

I was about to get the blame all right. Another trip to the Doctor certainly guaranteed that.

"I can't believe it. I simply can't believe it!" she exclaimed pacing up and down in the lounge room in front of me. "How could I be nearly four months pregnant and not realise it? That implant was supposed to be foolproof!"

I wasn't quite sure what to say about that. She was the birth control expert.

"It must have happened in Kansas." I offered after quietly figuring out the Maths.

She stopped pacing and stood with her hands on her hips.

"YES it happened in Kansas Jeff and I think you and I both have a good idea where too."

Despite the fact I wasn't too pleased we'd had a mishap I couldn't help an amused smile stealing across my face.

"What's so funny?" she demanded. "I'm not laughing in case you haven't noticed."

"So we made ourselves a barn baby that afternoon huh?" I laughed. "I warned you about making me crazy Lucy. I'm dangerous when I'm jealous."

I paused and winked. "Or at least parts of me are!"

She glared at me and the pretty little English accent suddenly took on a whole new tone.

"I don't know how you can just sit there and make jokes about this Jeff. April is only five months away and there's no way I'll be ready to cope with another baby by then."

She really wasn't taking the news well. She had been so careful since the accident with Scott.

The pacing started again.

"This whole thing's most inconvenient and I still don't know how it could have happened."

I rose to my feet determined to make her stop.

"Lucy, I agree it's inconvenient but I think we both know how the heck it happened. Let's face it honey there's nothing much we can do but accept things is there?"

She looked me up and down and shook her head unhappily.

"I know we have to accept things but I still can't believe it happened! I can't Jeff!"

Mother couldn't believe it either when I told her. She was under the impression I'd seen to myself after John was born and immediately insisted I see to myself now. I told her I would when I found the time.

"You just make damned sure that you do." she instructed. "If three can mean four, four can easily mean five if you don't address the source of the problem."

But after the lecture Mother, like me, simply shrugged. It was obvious we'd been blessed with another child for a reason so it was pointless any of us getting all upset about it.

"But for goodness sake." she warned. "Whatever you do this time Jeff, don't for the life of me promise her a girl!"

I didn't need to be told that one twice. I'd well and truly learnt my lesson the last time.

Christmas came and went that year and Lucy finally came around to accepting what had happened in Kansas. She called the three boys to her side when our little "Barn baby" started to move about inside her. I watched their little faces light up with wonderment as they felt the first tiny kicks. I watched her face light up too. It made me feel so happy I couldn't keep how I felt to myself.

"I love you Luce." I whispered.

She looked down at her bump and then over at me and smiled.

"I love you too Jeff."

The New Year brought with it an avalanche of orders and I was required to travel a lot to negotiate new deals. This made me very uneasy. I didn't like to leave Lucy in her current condition and I tried to make sure I juggled things so I never spent any more than two nights away from home. Still, despite my careful time management, I somehow ended up in Los Angeles on my birthday and the surprise party she'd painstakingly planned to celebrate me turning thirty-four was ruined.

I promised to make it up to her with Dinner for two on Valentine's Day. Even though we'd now been married nearly nine years we still did the romantic little things that kept our marriage special. A candlelit dinner on Valentine's Day was one of them. Lucy was delighted with the invitation and I made sure I planned my work schedule accordingly. I made reservations at an intimate Italian Restaurant on the other side of Boston and ordered her favourite flowers.

But the fourteenth of February began with an unexpected call from New York.

"Don't worry Lucy I'll fly myself there." I said pulling on my business suit and looking around for my tie. "I'll still be back to take you out for dinner"

She stood in the doorway looking at me, her eyes reflecting her disappointment.

"Yes like you were going to be home for your birthday I suppose."

I gave her my special "Jeff Tracy smile" as I picked up my briefcase and bent to kiss her goodbye.

"Oh come on. Trust me. From now on a Tracy always keeps a promise. All right?."

A Tracy always keeps a promise. That's how I raised my boys.

Well I certainly made it to New York for the meeting but Lucy and I never made it out for Dinner.

As I sat around the conference table in Manhattan my cell phone rang. I looked about with embarrassment. I never took calls when I was in meetings and was actually quite surprised and somewhat annoyed at myself for forgetting to turn the blasted thing off.

"Excuse me please." I apologised reaching into the pocket of my suit coat. "I don't normally take calls."

I don't normally panic either.

I flew F-16's at suicidal speed in dog-fights and didn't panic.

I flew three space shuttles and took a rocket ship to the moon and didn't panic.

But I sure as hell panicked when I took that phone call.

It was the maternity hospital in Boston.

Lucy had been admitted.

The baby was in trouble.

"What ...Where ... How ..." I blubbered like a complete idiot in front of the client I'd been trying to impress for months.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." I finally managed to say.

With that I apologised, packed up everything, and fled out of the building. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I ran down the footpath trying to hail a cab. They'd said she'd fallen. They'd said she was hurt. They'd said our baby was in trouble. They hadn't said where the other children were.

I finally found myself a cab.

"The airport please." I quaked. "As fast as you can get there."

I reached back into my pocket for my cell phone as we sped towards the airport. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn't even dial the number.

"CALM DOWN JEFF!" was the command on the other end of the line when I finally managed to make the call.

"Momma ... I ... Lucy ... the boys ..." I stammered completely incoherent.

"For goodness sake son can you settle down for a minute and tell me what the hell's happened." Mother demanded exasperated.

I swallowed and tried to tell her what I knew.

"She's not due 'till April 26 Mom." I ended in a terrified voice. "What am I gonna do?"

"Well panicking like this certainly isn't what you should be doing is it?" she stressed. "The most important thing to do is get yourself back home son. I'll make some calls to the hospital for you in the meantime."

With that I tried to get my head together so I was in a reasonable condition to fly.

That trip from New York to Boston felt like the longest flight of my life.

"Please let everything be OK ." I prayed as I brought the plane in to land. "Please."

By the time I got to the hospital the baby had been delivered by caesarean section and had been listed as critical. The other three children were found to be safe and well in the hands of the nurses. Lucy was out of theatre and "stable."

"You should be very proud of your eldest son Mr. Tracy." the head nurse exclaimed looking over at Scott. "It was only because of him we were able to locate you."

The comment went completely over my head. I was in a daze of fright about the baby and worried sick about Lucy.

"Please ma'am. I'd appreciate it if you would take me to see my wife." I heaved still in a state of real panic.

The nurse nodded and invited me to follow her down the corridor.

"Of course."

"Mrs Tracy is still under heavy sedation." she said as she opened the door. "She's had a pretty nasty fall."

My heart fell as I walked into the darkened room. Lucy lay unceremoniously decked out in a hospital gown with all sorts of tubes coming out of her. Her face was pale and groggy and her eyes slowly opened and closed.

I approached the bed and stood there feeling terrible. She looked so small and vulnerable, almost like a child. I reached out and ran my hand lightly down her cheek.

"Hey baby girl." I whispered. "Can you hear me?

Her eyes moved sleepily in my direction but she didn't reply.

"I'm afraid she's still a bit out to it Mr. Tracy." the nurse said quietly from the door. "It may be a little while before she recognises you."

I nodded, calming down a little. Despite all the tubes and her heavily drugged condition at least it looked like she was going to be OK.

"What happened?" I asked turning my head towards the nurse. "Do you know any of the details?"

The nurse looked a bit vague.

"Not really but from what I've been told Mrs Tracy slipped and fell down some stairs in aparking lot. She broke quite a few of her ribs in the fall and had a lot of trouble breathing. Then her water broke on the way to the hospital and the labour started. Unfortunately the Doctor had no choice but to take the baby as quickly as possible."

I closed my eyes trying to cope with the dreadful feeling of inadequacy which came over me. She shouldn't have been out shopping on her own with all the children. I was ready to lay a bet right now she'd fallen running after one of them. My anger at myself intensified. Why couldn't I get my priorities straight? I should have been here with her.

"And our baby?" I asked worriedly.

"I think you were informed the baby was critical on your arrival Mr Tracy."

"Yes." I acknowledged turning my attention back to Lucy. "That's what I was told."

It suddenly dawned on me I didn't even know if the baby was a boy or a girl.

"A baby boy Mr. Tracy... a little under two pounds." Lucy's Doctor informed me when he came back a short time later to check on her progress. "He's doing as well as can be expected."

I felt sick to my stomach. What was that supposed to mean? It certainly didn't sound too hopeful.

"He'll be all right though won't he Sir?" I queried anxiously.

"Mr Tracy. One can never be sure with a premature baby."

The Doctor must have seen my face fall. He looked over from Lucy and re-iterated his previous statement.

"He's doing as well as can be expected. You should take a good deal of encouragement in that."

I didn't know how to react as I slumped in the chair beside Lucy's bed and tried not to succumb to the tears that pricked my eyelids. It was like life had somehow caught up with me and was asking me to pay the price for lying to our parents about Scott being premature. Now I really did know how it felt to have a premature baby. I started to worry about what I was going to say to Lucy if somehow he didn't make it. How did one cope with the death of a baby? I didn't know and as the hours passed without a word from the special care nursery, I really didn't want to know.

Finally as the clock neared nine o'clock Lucy started to come around. Her eyes focussed unsteadily on mine.

"Hey baby girl." I said in a quiet and worried voice.

She grimaced and let out a small moan.

"Everything hurts ..." she breathed.

I stroked her forehead.

"You didn't have to go and do all this to yourself just to get me to remember our date you know." I said in gentle admonishment. "I told you I'd be back."

But my pathetic little attempt at humour failed.

"The baby ..." she pushed through her lips.

I could see the distress on her face and all I wanted to do was tell her the baby was going to be all right. But I couldn't. All I could do is repeat what the Doctor had told me. I reached out my hand and squeezed hers.

"They said he's doing as well as can be expected Luce."

"He?"

I nodded my head with guilt.

"It figures." she sighed in a tiny weak voice.

"I guess you're pretty mad at me again then huh?" I asked looking pensive.

She shook her head before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Have you seen him?" she exhaled painfully.

I lowered my face.

"No."

"Oh Jeff ..." she whispered, tears escaping from underneath her eyelashes. "What if he dies?"

"Hey ... hey ... hey." I berated her gently as she began to cry. "I'll have none of that sort of talk."

"But ..." she continued.

"No buts." I said firmly. "He's going to make it Lucy. He's a Tracy son."

I wasn't exactly sure if that meant for anything or not but hearing myself say it certainly made me feel better.

I said it to myself lot of more times too in the precarious and nerve-racking weeks that followed. One minute little Gordon was doing fine, the next minute we were told to prepare ourselves for the worst. Lucy was a mess and I have to admit I shed more than my fair share of tears too. The two of us clung to each other praying for our precious little "barn baby" to pull though. It was all we now wanted out of life.

I look at our "barn baby" twenty two years later as he grins at me from his place at the end of the table. I can't help but smile back in response. That young man has survived not one but two desperate fights for life in his time; the first as a tiny scrap of human life no bigger than the palm of my hand; the second only two years ago when I nearly lost him in that hydrofoil accident. Being a Tracy son does mean something if Gordon Cooper Tracy is anything to go by. No-one else I know has survived what he has and can still smile about life. I am immensely proud of him.

MMMMMM.

Pranks excluded of course.

However I suppose given the mischief his Mother caused that day we were in the barn together, I guess he was never destined to turn out any other way. When it comes to mischief he's Lucy to the core.

Yeah ...

It was nearly five weeks before Gordon stablised. He still wasn't able to breathe on his own and the Specialists said it would be at least another seven weeks before he could. Irrespective of that Lucy and I cried in each other's arms with relief at the news. We'd at least gotten him this far and we were very grateful for that. Gordon's struggle for life had been a terrible strain on both of us.

Mother was relieved beyond belief too. She'd hated being stuck in Kansas at a time when she felt she was needed in Boston but I had asked her not to come until I was sure she wasn't coming for a funeral. Despite her protests I assured her I could cope and was doing fine.

Given Gordon's see-sawing condition sometimes I wished I'd have taken her up on the offer. Many times I was forced to dig three sleeping little boys out of their beds in the middle of the night because Gordon had taken a turn for the worst. Despite the inconvenience and stress of it all I still think I did the right thing. I didn't want Mother to witness little Gordon fighting for his life on a respirator. The sight of it was heartbreaking and it was hard enough dealing with my own emotions and holding Lucy up without coping with Mother too.

I promised when Gordon finally came home from hospital I would arrange for her to come and see him. Once that magic day came, sixteen days after he would have been due, she couldn't get on that plane fast enough. But I swear from the moment I picked her up from the airport it was like she'd never been gone.

"Lord you're thin!" she exclaimed looking me up and down. "I knew I should have come out here earlier!"

As I have said in the past, the best way to deal with my Mother is to agree with her. Before she could start on about anything else I quickly acknowledged yes I had lost weight and it was all due to the fact that I hadn't been eating too well. My stomach had been tied up in knots for over twelve weeks and I simply didn't want to eat. I then assured her I was eating better now that "Gordie", as I affectionately called him, was home and life was returning to normal. That settled her down but as usual not for very long.

"Now while I think of it, you have gone and taken my advice haven't you?" she asked.

"What advice was that Momma?" I enquired as we turned into the drive.

"The advice you said you were going to take after you found out Gordon was on the way."

"Mom it's on my list of things to do honest. "I promised in a tired voice. "I've just been so busy with the kids and work these past few months I haven't had the time."

"Mmmmm." she frowned giving me her well practiced "Mother's glare of disapproval".

"Mom." I said defensively. "It's not as if Lucy isn't taking care of things OK?"

After that she let the matter drop and hurried inside to meet her new Grandson. She nearly expired when she saw he had signature red hair and honey brown eyes. I laughed at her look of complete shock. For once in her life she didn't know what to say.

The shock quickly wore off and before long she was absolutely taken with him. She couldn't stop saying what a beautiful baby he was. I agreed with her from the bottom of my heart. He was such a cute little guy he had me completely smitten too. But he was very hard work for Lucy. Despite the fact he was now home, he still needed a lot of special care and she wasn't coping with the extra demands at all.

The pressure of the past few months, coupled with recovering from the C-section and six broken ribs had really taken it out of her. Normally she bounced back quickly after giving birth but this time things were very different. She was tired and listless and nothing like the vivacious Lucy I knew.

Mother told me to back off and give her a bit of space.

"She's been through a lot these past few months worrying about her baby." she reminded me. "You be good to her Jeff and remember just how lucky you are."

Yes, I conceded looking around me, I was lucky.

I had a nice home, my business was making a handsome profit, and I had a perfect little family.

The business was really booming at the moment and with another heavy order being received from the Air Force I felt the time was right to expand. I had developed a lot of overseas contacts over the past few years and all of them pointed me in the direction of Asia. If I went into production there I could treble the Company profit in less than two years.

But it was going to take a lot of effort, a lot of money and a lot of risk.

I did my homework thoroughly. I studied the overseas market carefully, analysed the standard of product being sold and weighed up the risks. After a lot of research I was convinced expanding into Asia was the opportune thing to do. The Bank agreed to lend me the money.

Now I had to convince Lucy.

Expansion into Asia would require a lot of sacrifice. Family sacrifice. We'd have to go back to our frugal lifestyle of the past to pay the interest bill and put every spare cent we had into trying to pay off the capital. Thirty million dollars was a lot of money in anyone's books and the company was on the line as collateral. There was also the fact I would be away from home a lot in the early stages of production. This meant Lucy would have to cope with four kids on her own. I didn't know how she'd react to that.

I knew gaining her approval was going to take a lot more effort this time. Even though she was my business partner and would take into account what was in the best interests of the company, she would also take into account what was in the best interests of our family.

That was where it was difficult. Deep down inside I knew it was the wrong time to expand family-wise but the market was right, the price was right and I honestly felt I could handle it. But it all went down to what Lucy was going to say. Could she handle it?

I telephoned Mother and asked her if she'd mind coming over for a few days. The reason for the visit was twofold.

I needed her to take the boys off our hands so Lucy and I could talk frankly. The boys were normally good when we needed to discuss business, but this discussion was going to be a lengthy and emotional one and I didn't want any interruptions. I also didn't want the boys to hear it.

In addition I wanted some time to spend alone with Lucy. It had been four months since Gordon made his early entrance into the word and our love life was still completely on the back burner. I was exhausted from the business. She was exhausted from the children. All the two of us did was collapse into bed every night, too tired to do anything.

I wanted that to change.

Mother of course jumped at the chance to see her grandchildren again and flew over immediately. She took the three eldest children out the first afternoon she arrived. As the car pulled out of the drive, the silence in our usually rowdy house was magic.

So were the hours that followed.

We were alone for the first time in months and Gordon was asleep. I joked around and teased her. I got my usual slap for my nonsense. I looked at her. She looked at me. It didn't take too long for the spark to ignite between us and for the first time in many months the two of us relaxed and indulged in some much needed physical love together.

Then we talked about my plans for expansion in Asia.

Lucy was very uneasy about the money and extremely unhappy about the time I'd be spending away. But I pointed out that if we went for broke this time and succeeded, we'd be set for life.

"I suppose you're about to give me that lame line about being a billionaire again!" she exclaimed.

"I might." I replied with a big smile.

"Well as long as the billionaire realises he still has a wife and four kids waiting for him at home." she pouted.

I promised her faithfully the "billionaire" would keep a balance between work and life. I'd still be there for the boys when they needed me.

"Too bad about me by the look of it." came another pout.

"You?" I grinned kissing those luscious lips of hers and motioning her back towards our bed. "I'll always find time for my favourite girl!"

The mischievous grin was back as the two of us fell together amongst the lavender scented sheets.

"I'll bet you will!" she giggled.

By the end of the evening when Mother returned Lucy had agreed we should expand and two weeks later the two of us visited the Bank and signed the contracts we knew would either make or break the company. We both swallowed hard at the magnitude of our commitment. There could be no backing down now.

Production began immediately and as I anticipated I was forced to be away from home for many weeks on end. I missed Lucy and the simple life the two of us once shared. I missed my four little boys too, especially the baby who gave me so much joy. But I told myself it had to be done and rose above the feeling.

I was keen to get things going and worked hard all day, every day, seven days a week. One night, as I sat reading the financial pages of the newspaper I caught sight of the picture I had of Lucy in my hotel room. My conscience began to get the better of me.

Where was the balance I'd promised to keep between work and life?

I'd started to miss things. Things that were important to the boys. Last week-end I'd missed Scott's first baseball final where he made the home-run to win the game. The week before I'd missed the excitement of Virgil's first day at kindergarten. I only heard over the telephone that Gordon was laughing out loud..

And I'd missed things that were really important to Lucy... like our ninth wedding anniversary.

I honestly didn't mean to forget. I'd just been so caught up in meeting production targets that I'd never even given it a thought.

My Father's words rumbled in the background when I realised I'd forgotten her.

"Bein' famous is one thing. Bein' true to what's important in your life is another. "

When I rang to apologise she hardly said anything. It was obvious she was terribly hurt.

I closed down the production site and headed home from Tokyo immediately. I'd been away from my wife and family far too long and it was time to find the balance.

When I got there all she did was cry. She handed me Gordon at the front door and left me standing in the middle of the children. I looked after her with dismay as she broke down and ran upstairs to our bedroom. She'd never done anything like that before. But then ... I guessed I'd never forgotten our wedding anniversary either.

I went upstairs a few hours later to try and apologise. She was still crying her heart out and continued to cry despite my attempts to calm her down. I knew then that something else was radically wrong and when she finally stopped crying long enough to tell me, I absolutely exploded.

She was ten weeks pregnant; courtesy of our afternoon alone.

My whole body burned with anger. Five kids... three of them mistakes. Dear God I'd accepted the first mistake without complaint and married her, hell I'd even joked about the second one in the barn but the third one ... there was simply no excuse this time. She'd told me she was taking care of things and it was more than obvious now she wasn't.

I didn't care if the whole world heard me as I yelled at her at the top of my voice and demanded to know how she'd managed to slip up this time. Couldn't she remember to put a stupid pill in her mouth once a day for God's sake? Didn't she understand how much responsibility she'd already heaped on me with four of them without putting me through the hell of five? Didn't she have a brain in her head at all?

The tirade went on for nearly fifteen minutes before Lucy finally couldn't take any more. Then she started and she didn't care who heard her either. She had been taking of things. She'd just been tired and forgotten every now and then. Besides she didn't make all these babies alone. Why was it always her job to protect herself? I'd promised her after John I'd have myself seen to...and after Gordon. I wasn't the only one with responsibilities. She had all the responsibility of raising the children at the moment plus the worry of the business. It couldn't go on. I'd have to stop expansion in Asia and stay home. I told her I couldn't. She said I had to.

"I've had three babies in three years Jefferson!" she sobbed desolately. "I just can't cope anymore."

"Yeah well whose fault's that?" I flashed in fury. "You should have had enough intelligence to stop them being made!"

"How dare you say that to me!" came the devastated reply.

"You're lucky I'm not sayin' what I really want to say Lucille." I seethed.

I stormed out on her then, steaming within a red haze of fury. I banged open our bedroom door, nearly knocking it off its hinges and strode angrily down the hallway. Huddled on the stairs were Scott, Virgil and John, their little faces wide-eyed and frightened. They'd never heard us argue before.

"Get to your rooms and stay there!" I barked pushing past them. "Anyone who moves will get a caning from me!"

With that I left the house and drove myself to the nearest bar. The bottom of a scotch glass had never looked as good as it did right now.

Another Goddamn baby. More responsibility. More money.

Another drink. Things had sure been different when I was the one wanting another baby. She couldn't take those pills fast enough then.

Another drink. Where the hell did she get off?

Another drink. How dare she expect me to stop expansion and put a stop to a thirty million dollar investment? Stupid woman. She had about as much sense in business as she had in stopping herself getting pregnant.

Another drink. I should never have gotten married in the first place.

Another drink. I should have stayed in the Air Force. To hell with the moon and to hell with the Business.

And to hell with her.

"I think you've had way too much to drink Sir." the bartender said as I ordered another. "Maybe you should think about heading on home now."

My eyes struggled to focus. I couldn't go home now. I couldn't even walk.

The next morning I guiltily drove myself home, stiff and sore from a night in the car, a rotten headache into the bargain and feeling mighty damned ashamed of myself. I shuddered as I recalled our argument. I had said so many dreadful things in the heat of the moment and I knew I hadn't meant any of them.

I sat in the drive for nearly fifteen minutes trying to think of something to say to Lucy before finally finding the courage to go inside the house and face her. My hand literally shook on the door handle as I turned my key.

The front door opened and the first person I saw was Scott. He stood in the hall holding on to Virgil's hand. His dark blue eyes looked me up and down accusingly. Virgil moved closer to him and visibly cringed. He knew I'd threatened to cane him if he left his room.

"Daddy." he said in a tiny and terrified voice. "I had to come out to go to the bathroom."

My heart sank. Last night, blinded by my anger I'd only seen them as worries and responsibilities but as little Virgil bit his lip and looked like he was going to cry I came down to earth with a crash.

They were only kids.

My kids.

And I had walked out on them.

My stomach knotted.

I forced myself to endure Scott's look of disapproval and tried to speak to him a little less forcefully than I'd spoken the night before.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

Scott looked towards the bathroom.

"Mom's in there." he replied almost sullenly. "She's not feeling very well."

I swallowed and moved in the direction of the bathroom, painfully aware there was nothing I could do but swallow my pride, apologise profusely and try to be happy about the baby. However the sight that met my eyes quickly made me realise there was going to be a heck of a lot more to it than that.

Lucy sat on the side of the bath, head down, wretched with nausea. She looked like she was going to be sick at any minute. In her arms was an unhappy little Gordon protesting loudly at being forced to drink from a bottle. Beside her was John demanding her attention and asking for his breakfast. Tears trickled in a steady stream down her cheeks as the noise continued.

The guilt at my own selfishness reared up within me. I'd forgotten how dreadfully sick she got when she was pregnant. I'd never given a thought to the fact that she'd need to wean Gordon either. Weaning him so suddenly would not only be making him unhappy; she'd be feeling miserable and uncomfortable herself. I'd forgotten just how demanding John really could be.

She had been right last night. She couldn't manage at the moment.

And I had done nothing but yell at her for getting herself pregnant again.

"Hey." I said in a quiet and guilty voice.

She looked up at me with swollen red rimmed eyes. All I saw in those devastated eyes was sadness and the remnants of her mortally wounded soul.

I strode forward to take Gordon.

"Come on little guy." I said taking him out of her arms and kissing his tiny head. "Maybe you'll learn to take a bottle a bit better if Daddy gives it to you huh?"

"Thanks." she said emotionlessly.

The tone of her voice said it all.

I'd gone too far and stupidly blown away nine years of love, happiness and mutual respect in fifteen minutes of uncivil, unwarranted outburst. Somehow I knew the word sorry wouldn't count for anything right now. No words could convey an apology of the magnitude I needed to make.

"Umm... I'll mind the kids for a while." I offered uncomfortably. "Why don't you take a shower and go lie down for a bit. I'll bring you in some tea to settle your stomach down."

I looked at John and motioned him to go. Like Virgil his little eyes filled with tears and he cowered against his Mother.

"It's OK Johnny." I assured him with a heavy heart. "Daddy didn't mean to yell at you last night."

I guess a man's entitled to make the odd mistake or two in his life but it was very apparent that morning the mistake I'd made was monumental.

The three eldest boys sat with me at the breakfast table hardly saying a word. Despite the fact I'd made enough food to feed an army, Scott and Virgil only fiddled with what I gave them and little Johnny didn't eat his breakfast at all. I guessed I didn't blame them for not having an appetite. Something like this had never happened in our home and they were very unhappy and confused.

"Daddy; whereabouts is England?" Virgil suddenly asked.

I put down my coffee and peered anxiously at my inquisitive five year old son.

"What do you want to know that for Virgil?" I asked trying to sound calm.

"Mommy said we're going to live there." he continued. "Is it a long way from here Daddy?"

The whole fabric of my being went into absolute panic. Dear Lord what had I done? Lucy was going to leave me.

My eyes filled with worried tears. I couldn't live without my little boys and I couldn't live without Lucy. I buried my head in my hand and replayed our argument over and over in my head. How could I have said those things to her? I must have had rocks in my head.

"Are you all right Dad?" Scott asked.

"Yes of course I am." I lied lifting my coffee cup to my lips and trying to stop my hands from shaking. "And to answer your question Virgil, England is a very long way from here and you definitely won't be going there to live."

"But Mommy said ..." he argued.

"Mommy's wrong." I said firmly rising to my feet. "No-one is going anywhere around here."

I looked at Scott.

"Please watch your little brothers for me. I need to talk to your Mother. "

His eyes burrowed into mine.

"Mom cried all night Dad." he said making a quiet and forceful statement.

He was very protective of his Mother.

Luckily for me I was able to convince Lucy to hear me out. I sat on our bed and fixed my repentant eyes on hers. I apologised for my behaviour ten times over. I admitted I didn't have an excuse for any of it. I had been completely selfish and irrational.

"Honey, I didn't mean any of those terrible things I said." I swallowed. "Honest."

Her eyes filled with tears and she shrugged her shoulders in silence. She obviously didn't believe me.

Then I forced myself to admit it was just as much my fault as hers that she was pregnant again. I promised her I would have myself seen to immediately. There would be no more Tracy babies ever once she'd had this one. I also promised I'd do everything in my power to be home as much as I could to help her with the children.

"But no matter what we must continue construction in Asia ." I stressed. "Our financial security completely depends on it."

"And Lucy..." I added quietly. "You know I have to be there if we want it done right."

I watched as her shoulders bowed and her head lowered.

"You still aren't listening to me Jeff." she whispered turning away from me in despair. "I said I can't cope any more and I need you here."

I grasped her hands roughly and appealed to her to try and see my side of things.

"I AM listening to you Lucy but I also need you to listen to me. What you want me to do is not that simple do you understand? If I can't be there to supervise I'll have to freeze construction and to do that is simply crazy. We still have to pay interest on the money we've borrowed."

I continued blindly.

"Honey we just can't do it. The American operations won't cover that sort of debt and feed us too."

Tears began to slide down her cheeks.

"Well if that's the way it has to be Jeff I've got no option but to leave and ask for help from my parents." she murmured in defeat .

Tears began to slide down my cheeks too.

"No Luce ... "I begged starting to sob. "Please don't say that... I love you and the boys more than anything else in the world..."

But Lucy was tired and ill and not thinking straight. She still hadn't recovered properly from the C-Section or the stress of Gordon's premature birth and all she could see was her inability to cope with the pressure of caring for yet another baby. She said she'd rather have nothing than battle on like she was. I simply couldn't get her to see sense and in the end I was left with no choice. If I wanted her to stay I had to stop the expansion in Asia and stay in Boston to help her cope with the children.

Financially things began to hurt immediately.

The interest bill on thirty million dollars was horrific and despite the American business never looking better we barely scraped up enough each month to pay it. It also didn't help that despite our apparent wealth on paper I was working myself into the ground trying to make ends meet and Lucy's health had gone from bad to worse with the worry of it. She wasn't eating anything and I started to nag her about what it must be doing to our unborn baby.

"Don't be such a hypocrite Jeff. You don't even want the baby." she flashed back.

"Lucy stop saying that." I snapped in frustration. "I've apologised a thousand times for what I said that night. You know I didn't mean it. Why can't you just let me forget about it?"

Things between us now were going from bad to worse but we still tried to act normally in front of the children. However the kids sensed the way it was and all of them, particularly John became fractious and unhappy. Four unsettled children only added to the tension.

Thanksgiving that year was headed for disaster. I couldn't afford to fly Mother to Boston to join us and with Thanksgiving dinner being a tradition in our family, I became even unhappier.

But Mother being Mother, she managed to find her own way to Boston and when she unexpectedly arrived to spend the holiday with us she was absolutely horrified.

Before I knew what had hit me she had stormed into my Boston Office and slammed the door behind her.

"Momma!" I exclaimed rising to my feet in surprise. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"More like what the HELL are you doing HERE?" she bristled. "I've just come from the house and I can't believe the dreadful state Lucille is in."

"Mom." I warned in low and dangerous voice. "Stay out of it please."

"The hell I will!" she snapped. "Do you realise how terribly thin she is? I hardly recognised her when I walked through the door."

"I know she is Momma but..."

"She's hardly got a belly on her at all this time and she's nearly five months gone! Not only that I couldn't even get a smile out of her. Too busy blaming herself for this blasted mess the two of you have gotten yourselves into with this business."

I immediately went on the attack.

"I told her we couldn't afford to freeze the Asian investments but she wouldn't listen."

Mother went on the attack too.

"And why do you think she wouldn't listen? Because those little grandsons of mine are a real handful at the moment and they need to have their Father at home that's why. It's not her fault she had to bring things to a standstill because you couldn't be bothered seeing to yourself when I told you to. It takes TWO to make a baby Jeff and don't you forget it. "

"Mom I know all that." I stressed trying to remain calm. "But the point is baby or no baby freezing things in Asia was the wrong thing to do."

"All right." she retorted. "Point taken. It was the wrong thing to do. So what are you going to do about it then? Let the one wrong decision that girl's ever made ruin your marriage?"

"Yeah well it was one hell of a mistake I think you'll agree." I scowled back.

Her eyes narrowed and her blood pressure rose. There was no way she was accepting that.

"The child knows she's made a mistake Jeff and at the moment she's in that house crying like there's no tomorrow because of it. Why can't you find it in yourself to rise above this nonsense and reassure her everything's going to be all right?"

"Because things aren't going to be all right mother." I bit through clenched teeth. "That's why."

I didn't get any further. Mother was nearly purple with rage. She pointed her finger at me and said slowly, clearly, and directly.

"By God you're lucky your Father isn't alive to see your wife in the state she's in at the moment Jefferson Tracy because if he was you wouldn't be standing up straight right now."

I dropped my head at those words. Yes I could imagine what Dad would have had to say. Like Mother said, I wouldn't be standing up straight. He warned me before I was married he expected me to treat Lucy like he treated Mother and nothing less than that would ever be acceptable to him.

I knew I should be making more of an effort with Lucy but things were tough right now and no-one understood the pressure I was under.

"Are you listening to me? I don't care about pressure. _**Family is everything**!_" she stressed. "New life isn't something you or any man on this planet has the right to fool around with. **_YOU_** put that child inside Lucille no matter how much you want to point the finger and blame things on her. **_YOU _**are her husband and it's **_YOUR_** job to make sure she's in a fit state to bring it into the world! You mark my words son, if you keep going the way you are, she's going to lose that baby and if that happens, you'll have to deal with more than just money worries young man. You'll be dealing with **ME!"**

Silence followed and after a few minutes Mother calmed down a little and sat herself down in the chair.

"Sit down Jefferson." she thundered.

I obeyed, too shell-shocked to argue.

"Look at me son." she demanded and waited until I lifted my eyes ashamedly to hers.

"Marriage is for keeps and that's what your Father and I expected when you put a wedding ring on that little girl's finger. Now I don't care what you have to do or what you have to say to patch things up with Lucille but you do it before this day is out do you hear me?"

I nodded in silence.

"I mean it Jefferson." she rumbled again.

I nodded again too.

"I'll see to it Ma'am." I said quietly.

"Good!" she snapped rising to her feet. "Now close down that stupid computer, put a smile on your sullen face and make an effort to put a bit of happiness back in your home. I'll be watching!"

I sat in my chair and watched her go.

She was right.

I didn't like life like this.

Sure I was worried about the money, but I was really worried about my relationship with Lucy. Things just seemed to have fallen off the rails in the past twelve months with the pressure of the two pregnancies and the plans for the business. Gone were our twilight walks and silly little conversations. Gone were the mischief and the teasing. And as I thought about it, most of reason it had gone was my fault. I'd become too preoccupied with money and possessions and was forgetting the value of the irreplaceable possessions I had.

My wife and my children.

Especially Lucy. She'd stuck by me through thick and thin; the highs and lows of my NASA career and the birth of my business. She'd taken over my responsibilities for me when my Father died. She'd given me four beautiful children and more joy and love than a man ever deserved to have in a lifetime. And how was I behaving?

I sighed. I really wished Dad was still around. He'd have never let me get to this stage. I'd hated his no-nonsense approach to life when I was young but I realised now there was a lot to be said for it. Thoughts of Dad tumbled through my mind. He'd struggled to make ends meet for years and he'd never blamed anyone for his troubles. He'd simply shouldered the burden in silence.

He'd also never gone to sleep angry at my Mother.

"Never let the sun go down on an argument Jefferson" he told me the night before my wedding. "It ain't good for a marriage."

Love, honesty and respect; simple, basic values Dad had given to me as a young man and I had completely forgotten them.

So as instructed by Mother I closed down my stupid computer, put a smile back on my sullen face and went home determined to put a bit of happiness back in our home.

I made a huge effort with the children when I arrived and they were delighted to receive my attention. I played ball in the back garden with Scott and Virgil. I read a book to John. I even offered to make dinner while Lucy bathed and fed Gordon.

Lucy made an effort to eat something over Dinner.

I tried to make conversation at the table.

Mother nodded with approval at the uneasy truce.

Later that evening instead of collapsing in front of the television as I usually did I strode across the room and held out my hand towards Lucy.

"How about taking a walk with me Luce?" I asked trying not to sound apprehensive. "It's a really nice night for it."

Lucy looked at the children and went to decline but she didn't get the chance.

"What a good idea Jeff! The fresh air will do you the world of good young lady!" Mother enthused. "Off you go dear. I'll mind the boys for you."

Lucy silently rose to her feet.

"OK Jeff. I'll just get my coat." she said quietly.

She knew she had been railroaded.

That walk ended up being the medicine our marriage needed. We were forced to talk civilly to each other for the first time in ages. At first it was awkward with both of us not wanting to say anything for fear of an argument over money or the children. We walked together side by side. I had my hands in pockets. She had hers folded protectively around her body.

"Did you manage to get the interest bill paid today?" she asked, her dead pan voice cutting the silent evening air.

"We won't have enough money in the account until Friday." I said in the same dead-pan voice.

Normally I'd make a snide remark about why there wasn't enough in the account but this time I made an effort to contain myself.

"Don't worry. The Bank can wait three days for its money. It's not as if we're not going to pay."

"If you say so." she shrugged.

We continued to walk, me still with my hands in my pockets, her still with her arms folded protectively around her body. I looked at the barely recognisable bump which sat below her folded arms. She was so thin and small.

"So how's things with you anyway?" I asked politely.

"Fine thank you."

"And the baby?"

Both of us continued to look straight ahead. We deliberately avoided eye contact these days whenever the subject of the baby was raised.

"I've got a Doctor's appointment tomorrow."

"I'm pleased to hear it. I'm worried about things as you know."

Normally she'd accuse me of not caring but for some reason this time she didn't.

"Your Mother's making me go."

I allowed a small laugh to escape from my lips, the first laugh I'd had in months. I glanced sideways.

"Well you know you'll definitely be going then don't you?"

Her face dropped in resignation before she glanced at me.

"I suppose so. She sure doesn't take no for an answer."

I nodded my head in agreement.

"No she doesn't."

The two of us went to cross the road. I put a protective arm around her as we waited for the traffic. It stayed there after I guided her across.

"Your Mother's had quite a lot to say since she arrived." she commented.

"What? ... To you?" I queried in surprise.

"To both of us I think."

I looked down at her and gave her a knowing smile. Lucy was no fool that was for sure. I allowed myself to relax a little.

"So you got the lecture too huh?"

"Yes I got the lecture." she admitted looking up at me. "Or should I say the reading of the riot act."

There was something in the way she said that which told me the Lucy of old was still there and could be coaxed out. My heart somehow lifted. Maybe ... just maybe ... we could go back to the way things were ...if I made an effort.

"And did you survive Luce?" I found myself joking. "I sure as hell didn't. Half of me is still plastered on the back wall of my office she blasted me so hard."

That brought a smile to her face.

"I can imagine."

"I guess she felt both of us needed a wake up call."

"She was right."

The two of us stopped walking and stood under the street light looking at each other in silence.

"Jeff ..." she began.

"Lucy ..." I interrupted. "We need to talk..."

The beautiful brown eyes filled.

"I know."

We walked to a nearby bus shelter and sat down together on the bench. I made a point of holding her hand in mine. The traffic hurried up and down the busy roadway and the shelter was our only light as the two of us sat and talked together for hours. At first it was careful, guarded discussion about our terrible financial situation and what we could do to keep on going. Then the conversation moved to the children and how our behaviour had been upsetting them. Finally it moved to us. I admitted I'd been acting like a complete jerk for the past three months only thinking of the business and forgetting about how all of this was affecting her.

I promised things would be different now.

She agreed we could work things out.

The two of us walked home together at four in the morning hand in hand. There still wasn't any mischief or teasing. There were still no silly little conversations. But at least we had achieved a quiet reconciliation we could build on to get things back to the way they were.

To both of us that was all that really mattered.

The last few months of Lucy's pregnancy flew and before any of us knew it March was with us and Mother had arrived for the birth of the baby.

She strode into the house and looked around with expectation written all over her face. It was obvious from the satisfied look on her face that she liked what she saw. There was a kind of happiness permeating the air. The smell of the lavender from Lucy's garden wafted through the house. Scott and Virgil giggled together as they encouraged Gordon to walk unsteadily between them. The little red haired toddler grinned from ear to ear as he tried. John was in his expected place on Lucy's lap. Mother smiled at John and ran her eyes over Lucy.

"You're looking better now dear!" she exclaimed with approval. "You've at least got a reasonable stomach on you now."

"Yes Mrs Tracy." Lucy replied shifting her weight uncomfortably. "Only seven days to go."

"And everything is all right now?" she said glancing at me.

"Of course." Lucy smiled.

Mother pulled me aside after dinner.

"You've done very well son." she acknowledged. "I'm pleased to see how quickly you've turned things around with Lucille."

"It hasn't been easy Momma." I admitted. "...especially since we're on the edge of bankruptcy."

I didn't elaborate any further. I didn't need another lecture about priority.

"Jeff as far as I'm concerned you're doing what any decent man should be doing at the moment." she stressed. "You're being a Father to your children and a good husband to your wife. Stop worrying about money for five minutes. It will only give you an ulcer."

"I know Ma'am ... but ..."

"Things will sort themselves out after the baby's born." she said firmly. "And I intend to be here to help you make it happen."

At my look of bewilderment she continued.

"I haven't said anything to you or Lucille yet but I've thought about it and I'm quite happy to stay on here for a few months and help her with the little ones while you resume production in Asia. **_PROVIDED_**..." she stressed ..."You come home to her every two weeks and call her every day."

I was so grateful to Mother I nearly picked her up and whirled her around the room. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. We'd soon be on the road to recovery.

Yeah well ... it sure didn't work out that way.

Lucy went into labour four days after Mother arrived. She was giving Virgil a piano lesson when I first noticed something was up. She was holding her back and grimacing a bit as she offered her usual gentle instruction. However it was a good hour before she finally admitted the pain she had been experiencing on and off since breakfast was active labour. I stayed pretty calm about the whole thing despite Mother running around like a nut. Lucy had never had less than an eighteen hour labour so there was no real need to panic.

"I'll go and put your things in the car." I said leaving her to organise what needed to be done with Mother.

"The Christmas Tree's under the bed in the spare room Jeff." she said suddenly as we drove down the freeway towards the hospital. "And the decorations are in the attic."

"_Christmas Tree?_" I laughed. "How much pain are you in over there Luce? It's only March you know; not December."

"I ... I know." she said shaking her head and looking confused. "I just felt the need to tell you that's all."

I saw her grimace again.

"Five minutes apart." I said glancing down at my watch. "Right on schedule Mrs Tracy. Looks like we should have ourselves a baby by about errr... two thirty."

"You think you're such an expert at all this now don't you?" she shot back once the contraction was over.

"I should be." I smiled. "I've had enough practice!"

"Well this is your final encore Mr Expert so you'd better make the most of it this time!" she laughed.

"Nope this encore's all yours baby girl." I announced as we turned into the hospital parking lot. "And you're about to take centre stage."

Centre stage.

Yeah ...

Anyway... so that was that then.

I can't continue any more.

I've never talked to anyone about what happened to my Lucy in that delivery room, not even my Mother. Whenever I've tried to get it off my chest, a part of me just shuts down and goes into denial.

I can't deal with it so I don't deal with it.

I tell myself it never really happened and think about something else. I do another million dollar deal, design another fighter jet ... I do anything ... anything at all... but think about it.

But I can't do another deal sitting at this dinner table. I can't design another fighter jet either. All I can do is sit here looking straight into the faces of the most precious gifts Lucy ever gave me.

My sons.

And one son in particular.

Lucy's final encore.

Alan.

What happened didn't happen Alan.

I didn't sit there helplessly watching your Mother, the woman I loved more than my own life; endure all that suffering to bring you into the world.

I didn't hear her screaming and crying for it to be over.

I didn't see that machine monitoring your heart beat stop.

I didn't watch as that surgeon nearly cut her to pieces trying to save you.

I didn't witness your tiny lifeless body being dragged from inside her and the panic around me when they couldn't get you to breathe.

I didn't see all that blood.

But ... ummm ... Alan ...I did see it ... I witnessed all of it.

Don't sit there and look at me like that. I'm not thinking about your relationship with Miss Kyrano and frowning because I disapprove. I'm frowning because I'm thinking about the day your Mother died and trying not to show it.

Alan ...it was so hard to just sit there helpless watching your Mother suffer. I didn't know what I could do to help.

She cried desolately for the labour that had gone on and on and on to be over. I had to listen to her screaming as the pain she endured to give you life went past what she could physically cope with. It must have been so bad for her to scream. Your Mother suffered in silence giving birth to Scott and he was nearly ten pounds. You were only five. Something had to be wrong. I don't know why I didn't sense that.

Then that machine monitoring your heartbeat stopped.

My heart stopped at that moment too.

Everyone's did.

Including your Mother's. I still see the terror on her face when she realised you weren't going to make it. .

She screamed at me to do something. All she wanted was you. She didn't care about herself.

But what could I do?

That's when they ... umm... brought the surgeon in. He almost ran through the door Alan. You have no idea how frightened everyone was.

Then I watched while he... umm ... operated... Don't get me wrong. He was good and he was fast and he tried to do as little damage to your Mother as he could ... but ...umm... the labour had gone too far ... and umm ... you were too far down and they said you were going to die if they didn't get you out. I ... umm ... know that. So he had to cut ... further than normal... and further...

Then he dragged you out ... you were completely blue and your cord was knotted around your neck. Dear God Alan ...you nearly strangled to death in there because no-one realised you were in trouble.

But umm... at least you finally cried. Your Mother didn't hear you but I did. I would have cried too but my eyes were staring in horror at all the blood.

Your Mother's blood Alan.

It was everywhere.

Down the surgeon's arm, on the floor, all over you.

I didn't think a human body held that much blood until I saw it for myself.

He couldn't get it to stop.

He called for the transfusion to start.

They said it was better if I left.

Do you know how useless all this made me feeI Alan?

How inadequate I felt as a husband?

How powerless I was as a man?

How angry I feel right now? Not at you Alan ... not at the surgeon ... but at myself. I should have done more to make things better for your Mother in there.

But I didn't.

Because I couldn't.

And I've lived with that guilt for twenty one years.

I don't want to dwell too much on the end. The three hours and nineteen minutes that separated the time of Alan's birth to ... ummm ... Lucy's time of death was the worst three hours and nineteen minutes of my life.

I didn't just lose my wife at the end of those hours. I lost everything. I lost my youth. I lost my belief in God. And I lost my best friend.

For a little while I still hoped she'd make it. They said she was doing as well as could be expected as the transfusions continued. Those were the words they'd said when Gordon was fighting for his life and things had turned out OK.

But I could still see the vision of all the blood.

She'll pull through, I told myself as I sat in the corridor waiting to hear more news. She's only thirty three and we've got five kids to care for. She couldn't not make it. I didn't know how to take care of a baby... well I did ... but only to help.

Two hours passed and there was still no more news. I'd gone with the nurses to the special care nursery to receive an update on Alan. I looked at him in the incubator. He was frightfully bruised and his two little eyes were almost black. They said he was doing as well as could be expected too. I returned to the waiting room and sat looking at the floor twisting my hands together.

I didn't care about money any more, or the Company or Asia. All I wanted was for my precious Lucy to be all right.

Finally ... ummm ... the Doctor came out.

I knew what the news was before he even told me. He looked at me with some sort of pity in his eyes and it was impossible not to know what that meant. I shrank within myself as he asked me to come with him to a small room at the end of the corridor.

Then he gave me the news. He delivered it to me sensitively and it really sounded like he was sorry. Lucy had lost too much blood in theatre and wasn't responding to the transfusions. There was nothing more they could do. He figured she had about an hour left. He asked me how I wanted to say goodbye.

I looked at him stupidly. It wasn't as if I didn't understand. I just didn't believe it. This was Lucy... the most valuable thing in my life. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to her. We were both still so young. I wanted us to grow old together and so far we hadn't even had the chance to watch our children grow.

"Mr Tracy?" he queried as I grappled with the news. "There isn't much time."

My bottom lip trembled as I tried to decide what to do. The only living thing I'd ever said goodbye to was my faithful old dog. I was a child on the farm when he was put down. I remembered Dad wanting to take him down to the back field to simply shoot him and Mother refusing to let him do it.

"That damn mutt has given you his heart and soul over the years Grant Tracy!" she retorted pointing a wooden spoon in Dad's direction. "He at least deserves to die with dignity."

Dad hadn't been too happy about it because of the money but Mother wouldn't hear of anything else. I still remember seeing the veterinarian arrive and looking at Mother devastated.

"You should go on down with Daddy and hold old Ralph while he dies." she encouraged. "The time comes for all of us Jeff but it's always better if there's someone special there."

I didn't want to go down to the barn but I nodded my head at my Mother and plucked up the courage to do it. I was only ten years old, but old Ralph had been around since I was a baby. He'd given me years of loyal companionship and happy memories. He'd been the only one who'd sympathised when I got a caning from Dad. I guessed I owed it to him to be there for the end.

It was the hardest thing I ever did.

The veterinarian told me to sit down next to him and stroke his head.

"Talk to him son." he said. "Talk to him like you always do."

And I did.

"Remember the day you followed me to school Ralph?" I began scratching his ears with my fingers. "You and me got in so much trouble. I had to write no dogs allowed one hundred times after school cos of you. "

Old Ralph's eyes opened and closed and his tail slowly wagged.

"That's it son." the veterinarian soothed. "Keep going."

"And then there was the day you swiped Momma's chocolate cake from the window sill and ran off down the back field. Momma still blames me for that you know."

Old Ralph's breathing was becoming shallow.

"You're doing fine."

"I'm gonna miss you boy. You're my best friend you know that? I won't have no-one to sleep on the end of my bed no more. Not that Momma knew you did huh? Them fleas came from somewhere else not you. "

Old Ralph's eyes slowly closed and I felt his body slacken. I looked up at the veterinarian.

"He's gone son." he nodded.

I looked over at my Father with tears welling in my eyes. He had a face of stone.

"Tracy sons don't cry Jefferson." he said. "Go on back to your Mother and help her with the chores."

The memory of Mother's words that day was so clear as I now faced Lucy's Doctor.

"_The time comes for all of us Jeff but it's always better if there's someone special there."_

"I ... umm ... would like it to be private." I managed to utter.

With that he turned away to make the arrangements. I simply stood there, my stomach churning.

Finally I pulled myself together enough to call Mother and tell her what was going on. As usual Mother told me I had it all wrong. I told her I didn't. I needed her to bring the children to the hospital immediately.

"Tracy sons don't cry." I told myself over and over again as fought back the tears I needed to shed. "I've got to be strong for Lucy's sake."

"Mr Tracy." came a compassionate voice from behind me. I turned to look at the sister in charge of maternity. Beside her was the chaplain. "Things are ready for you now."

I nodded my head and looked up at the ceiling trying to contain the tears in my eyes.

"_The time comes for all of us Jeff but it's always better if there's someone special there."_

I followed them both into the private room where Lucy had been taken. Alan's incubator was beside the bed where she could see him.

I don't know what I expected her to look like. I guess I figured she'd look like old Ralph did. But she didn't. She didn't look old and sick and tired of life. Her face was young and beautiful and it still was capable of so much life and vitality.

But at the moment it was pale and stained with tears.

She'd been told the news.

I stood and looked out the window while the chaplain gave her last rites. I couldn't watch. I knew I would have lost what was left of my self-control totally.

"Tracy sons don't cry. Tracy sons don't cry. Tracy sons don't cry." I murmured as the monotone of the Chaplain continued.

When it was over he placed his hand on my shoulder.

"God be with you my son." he said quietly.

I couldn't even look at him. God be with me. Was he kidding? What sort of God did this?

Then the sister gently touched my arm.

"I'd like you hold your son Mr Tracy." she said. "I want take a photograph of him with the two of you."

I shook my head and kept my face to the window. I'd already started to withdraw from the situation as my world continued to fall apart.

"Please Mr Tracy." came the insistent voice. "For your little boy's sake."

I guessed she was right. Unlike the others Alan was never going to have the privilege of knowing Lucille Amanda Evans. He was never going to hear that special laugh or see that magic smile. He would never feel those loving arms around him or receive her undivided attention. I owed it to him to at least see what he'd missed out on and what his brothers had lost.

I turned back blinded by my tears and took Alan in my arms. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and tried to smile as the photograph was taken.

"Mr Tracy ...Jeff ..." the sister began awkwardly. "As you have requested I'll leave you alone with her now. I'll be outside if you need me."

"Thank you." I managed to reply and waited until she had gone.

"Oh Luce." I sighed beginning to cry openly. "Look what you've gone and done to yourself this time."

"Dumb huh?" she breathed.

"I can't take my eyes off you for one minute can I?"

"Guess not." she replied closing her eyes and biting her lip.

"Oh Jeff ... I'm so sorry." she breathed painfully and started crying too.

Our last and most precious conversation began. She couldn't say too much and with both of us crying nothing we said was coherent anyway. All the time we spoke I could see her fading away from me. I squeezed her hand harder and harder. I didn't want to see her go.

Then Mother arrived with the boys.

The chaos in the room was dreadful. Gordon took one look at Lucy and started crying to be held. John started crying and wanted to be held too. Virgil stood there frozen; his big brown eyes filled with tears.

"Mommy." he whispered in distress.

Scott was old enough to know what death meant and completely fell apart. He laid his head on Lucy's chest and began sobbing his heart out.

"Mommy please don't leave me." he heaved. "I love you."

"No Scott ..." I swallowed as Lucy struggled to breathe.

My heart broke as he lifted his eyes to mine.

"Daddy please make Momma better." he begged. "I don't want her go to heaven."

"Please Daddy." Virgil pleaded his little chest heaving too. "You can do anything."

I started to sob myself at the sound of those fragile, heart-wrenching pleas.

Couldn't they see Daddy was just a man and couldn't do anything more than they could?

Lucy was sobbing too at their words but with noticeable difficulty. Her breathing was becoming erratic and I knew she was nearly at the end.

I asked Mother to take the children out. She didn't hear me at first she was in so much shock herself.

"Momma." I almost screamed at her. "Please!"

I didn't want my sons to see their Mother die.

The children didn't want to go and Scott was in a terrible state as Mother forced him out the door.

He wasn't the only one. I was blinded by tears and knew I had to try to pull myself together to support her.

"_The time comes for all of us Jeff but it's always better if there's someone special there."_

Old Ralph. He had been my best friend.

Lucille Amanda Evans ... she was more than just my best friend. She was my everything.

And like I had done with Ralph I forced myself to find the courage to hold her until the end.

I sat down on the bed and tried to wrap my arms around her. There were so many wires and tubes that it was difficult. I blindly shoved them out of the way. They weren't any good to her anymore anyway.

I began to stroke her forehead.

"_Talk to her son." the voice from long-ago said. "Talk to her like you always do."_

"Remember the night we first met Luce?" I swallowed smoothing her dampened curls with my hand. "You were so pretty and I was so shy. I had to hide in the shadows to build up the courage to even go over there and talk to you."

A tiny smile appeared on her face as she remembered. Her eyes slowly opened and closed.

"_That's it son." the voice from long-ago said. "Keep going."_

I squeezed her tighter.

"And then that day you teased me into making love to you in the barn? You did that on purpose didn't you? You have no idea how bad I wanted you that day. You made me so crazy with jealousy talking about other men I didn't know what to do."

The smile was still there but it was fading.

"_You're doing fine." the voice from long-ago said._

"I'm gonna miss you baby girl." I choked. "I won't have anyone to confide in anymore, no-one to tease or have a laugh with. I'll even have to sleep by myself. That'll be strange. No more fighting over blankets huh? "

The smile was fading. My lips touched her forehead.

"I'll miss that just like I'll miss having you wake up next to me Luce. Your pretty face ... that happy smile ... I'll miss that more... "

I began to break down.

"... more than you'll ever ever know."

Those beautiful brown eyes looked weakly into mine.

"Jeff ..." she breathed so inaudibly I had to move my face next to hers to hear her.

"What baby girl?" I blubbered as my tears mixed with hers.

"You." she whispered.

"Me?" I choked.

"Only ever you."

My whole body shook with grief as I realised what she was trying to tell me. Despite her teasing about having other men before me it had only ever been teasing.

I had been her first ...and only ... and she wanted me to know that.

My lips trembled against hers as I kissed her. Her lips tasted salty ... of tears ...our tears.

"And there'll only ever be you my princess." I heaved burying my face in her hair and sobbing shamelessly. "Only ever you."

And that was the end. I completely broke down as I felt Lucy's body slowly slacken in my arms. I lifted my head to see her eyes close for the last time.

"_She's gone son." the voice from long-ago echoed. _

"No ..." I sobbed squeezing her lifeless body to mine. "Please God no ..."

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO _

_Author's Note :- I'll have to have a break to recover from this one! mcj_

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO _

**NEXT CHAPTER **

WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE - Part 3 – The Golden Years

(and what dear old Dad really does know).

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO _


	17. CHAPTER 8 PART 3 WORDS OF WISDOM FROM ...

_Author's Note – Thanks again to all the people who continue to encourage my writing in their reviews. Particular thanks to my friend Lady Viva who continues to be my sounding board. So what does dear old Dad really know? Read on … mcj_

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**CHAPTER 8 - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE**

**JEFF TRACY - PART 3 - THE GOLDEN YEARS**

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I wish my Mother would stop looking at me like that. I've never been comfortable when those dark blue eyes hold mine.

At the moment she's sipping her coffee and trying not to make it look obvious but I can tell simply by the expression on her face that she knows I've been thinking about Lucy.

And she's worried.

How do I know?

Mother always bites her bottom lip when she's worried and let me tell you she's biting her bottom lip now. It's the only thing that ever gives her away. The rest of the time you wouldn't know what the heck she's thinking. For all a man can tell, that Mother of mine could be up to anything; planning to swim the English channel, blasting off solo in Thunderbird Three or simply retiring to the kitchen to bake one of her famous apple pies.

But not when she bites her lip. There she goes again.

Yep she's worried.

I can almost hear what's going through her mind at the moment too.

"I wish you'd talk to me about her Jeff. You know it's not healthy for you to bottle things up inside. "

That's all Mother ever says and as far as I'm concerned she can keep right on saying it too. I'm not talking to her about Lucy. How I feel is private and all the talking in the world isn't going to help me get over her.

Naturally Mother doesn't agree so I make a silent point regarding my stance by deliberately averting my eyes and starting up a conversation with Scott.

Tracy Enterprises has a conference coming up in New York in a couple of week's time and it's one of those conferences where Jeff Tracy himself needs to make a personal appearance. Normally Scott attends the conferences on my behalf leaving me free to run International Rescue but this time there's a lot of major issues on the New York agenda and I'm afraid our roles will need to be reversed.

So as the two of us mull over the details, I see her frown and bite her lip again. Lord how does she manage to do that? How could she possibly pick up I've noticed the stray curl near Scott's left ear and started to think about Lucy?

"Looks like you'll be needing a hair cut soon sweetie." she intentionally comments.

As Scott startles and runs his hand through his hair I turn my head to look at her.

Our eyes meet again.

Touche Mother.

I know you know what I'm thinking and yes you're absolutely right

I hear myself sigh as I picture those beautiful chestnut curls.

God I miss her.

Almost automatically Mother's hand reaches out and softly squeezes mine.

"I know you do sweetie." her eyes gently soothe. "You'll never stop missing her."

You know I've often wondered where Mother gets her powers of intuition from. She always seems to know if something's not right or if one of us is feeling down. That's when you feel the comforting hand or hear the quiet advice.

However, unfortunately she also seems to know when someone is planning to do something they shouldn't be doing too. Once she gets an inkling of possible misdeeds, there is definitely no comforting hand for the culprit and the advice she gives is anything but quiet.

"Alan." she suddenly blurts.

My wild-child's brilliant blue eyes startle and move away from Tin-Tin.

"Yes ma'am?" he asks innocently, focussing those eyes on his elderly Grandmother.

"After Dinner I'd like both you and Tin-Tin to stay back and help me tidy things up in the kitchen," she instructs in her direct and "don't you argue with me" voice.

Alan nearly chokes.

"Is there a problem with that son?" she frowns as the boy looks towards Tin-Tin with dismay written all over his face.

It's hard not to let my guard down and chuckle at his disappointment. By the looks of things Mother has just effectively thrown their plans for an evening soiree into complete and utter disarray.

"Umm …of course not Grandma …" he stammers. "Tin-Tin and I were just thinking about going for a walk on the beach together that's all. Err…but it's OK of course ma'am. We can go later… you know … after we help you."

Mother shakes her head and plays the game like an expert.

"Oh no dear it will be far too late for the two of you to be thinking about walking then. You've got to head back to Thunderbird Five with your brother first thing in the morning and it's very important a youngster like you gets his rest."

Alan's eyes flicker unhappily. Well thank you Mother. That's the first sensible thing I've seen you do regarding those two in months.

My Mother is truly an amazing woman and I can honestly say nine times out of ten she pretty well does know everything about what's going on around here or in Alan's case now, what _isn't_ going to be going on.

But contrary to what they all believe, she's not the only one with knowledge in that Department.

Let me assure you, Jefferson Grant Tracy didn't get to where he is today without possessing some sort of intelligence and superior sixth sense. Granted I've worked myself to a standstill these past twenty-one years trying to forget Lucy but it has never meant for one solitary minute I've ever been blind, deaf or dumb to what's been going on in my own household.

I just simply don't let on.

Dad had a long talk with me not long after Scott was born and in amongst a lot of other things, he also gave me some very valuable advice.

"Bein' a good Father ain't simply a matter of bein' responsible for your actions in the bedroom son." he told me gravely. "It takes a lot of work and effort to be a Daddy and there are a few things you gotta learn right from the very beginning. "

Rule number one. A good Father sometimes needs to be blind.

"See what you need to see Jefferson and forget the rest." was his advice.

So I "never saw a thing" when Gordon started to experience some rather dreadful mishaps not long after playing one too many of his practical jokes. His loving brothers couldn't possibly have had enough and started retaliating … could they?

Then there was Rule Number two. A good Father sometimes needs to be deaf too.

"Hear what you need to hear and forget the rest." he said.

Therefore I "never heard a thing" when a certain eldest son of mine threatened to knock his two little brothers "goddamn lights out" after he caught them smoking down behind the wood pile in our old home town of Boston. My two youngest boys smoking? Never!

The final rule and one Dad said was the most important rule of all was the need for a Father to play dumb when the situation warrants it.

Oh yes.

Very dumb.

Scott ditching his million dollar Air Force jet? Really? I never knew a thing.

Virgil hiding pictures of his mother in the attic? All news to me.

John's silent conversations with the evening star? Don't be silly. Why would he do that?

Gordon and Jezzica Parker's love tryst in my bed? Tryst? What tryst?

Alan and Tin-Tin's relationship? No they're just friends.

You see I've chosen to play "dumb" about all of these things over the years because I believe it's been in the best interests of the boys for me to do so.

However I warn you. I may be "dumb" but I'm certainly not stupid.

Virgil was the first person this evening to find that out and once the other four see him bringing down his artwork from the attic to show me, they'll be starting to worry exactly what dear old Dad might know about them too.

Scott might finally begin to wonder if I know about him totalling the Air Force jet and if he decides to swallow his pride and ask me I'm going to look him straight in the eye and inform him I knew about it all along. But I'll also add I didn't say anything because I believe the embarrassment of being busted in front of the whole defence squadron by his Colonel and threatened with removal from Red Flag was punishment enough.

John on the other hand will always think I'm dumb. He'll never give me the opportunity to say I know about his conversations with the evening star and I'm never intending to raise the issue with him either. Quiet and introverted, sensitive and astute, he disguises a kind of fragility underneath that handsome, blonde exterior. It's a fragility Lucy always stressed would be alluring and masculine as he grew; something I very often forgot. However if he ever did choose to tell me I think I would reply that I always knew. I empathise with his feelings of loss more than he'll ever realise and one day I'd really like to tell him that.

Gordon's love tryst? Well if he's brazen enough to admit to that one I'll definitely be surprised. If ever there was a borderline case for me not being blind, the love tryst was it. Ditching jets and painting pictures is one thing; rolling around shamelessly with a young woman in your Father's bed is another.

However I'll continue to be blind to what happened because young Jezzica Parker died in his hydrofoil accident not long after. She was a beautiful girl and I know Gordon was very much in love with her. Now, like me, all he has left are memories; poignant, bittersweet memories of how it felt to make love to a woman who was truly special... and lose her.

But as for the other one … I'm only being blind about what's going on there because Mother says I have to be. At the moment the "two best friends" have adjourned to the kitchen to "get more coffee" but I've got no doubt in my mind the reason for the swift departure is to re-schedule their soiree after Mother just single-handedly ruined their plans. You know I swear I'm going to lay down the law to that boy soon. Talk about irresponsible!

I take an inward breath and prepare myself to call them back into the dining room but as I do I notice Mother frowning at me again. How the hell did she know I was thinking about that one?

I shake my head and exhale.

OK so I won't lay down the law Mother. I won't say anything to either of them all right?

A merry smile dances across her face and her features light up with the satisfaction she's got me over a barrel again.

Well mother you might think you know it all and you think you've got all the bases covered but let me tell you this right now.

I've certainly got news for you.

Dad taught me more than you think about the art of being a Father.

And all of you are about to find out just how much he taught me.

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**Stage 5 - The Breakdown**

The months that followed Lucy's death were dreadful and it is still difficult to bring myself to talk about them. It's not so much the pain it causes, I can deal with pain, but remembering how I behaved towards my children during that dark and terrible time is more than just difficult. It simply makes me cringe.

I never thought what happened after Lucy died could ever happen to me. Other people had breakdowns. Other people fell apart. Other people lost the will to go on.

But not me. Jefferson Tracy had taken Pioneer One to the moon and had been trained to handle any situation life happened to throw his way.

Well I was wrong.

Jefferson Tracy did fall apart and my behaviour as I did it was nothing less than shameful. Immersed in a sea of grief, I can only plead I wasn't in proper control of myself or my emotions and as a result I didn't realise what terrible suffering I was putting my kids through.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't do anything to hurt them physically, Lord I loved them too much to ever do something like that, but my inability to cope with what had happened to their Mother caused me to inflict a much deeper and more permanent hurt.

You see my little boys didn't just lose their Mother. They pretty well lost me too.

Jeff Tracy, the Daddy who once loved to talk and laugh and play became Jeff Tracy, Father; authoritative, regimented and stern.

Now that I think about it, the change in me started in the months before Lucy died. I was worried about money and struggling with the business and I simply didn't have time to play with my boys like I used to. Playing took time and time was money.

I didn't have a lot of patience with them either.

But the real transition from Daddy to Father escalated that fateful March evening when Lucy Evans left me alone to cope without her.

The first few days were a nightmare.

Scott became my shadow overnight, absolutely terrified something was going to happen to me too. My outgoing, self confident eight year old started following me everywhere. He was dreadfully insecure.

Virgil on the other hand didn't come anywhere near me. He stayed in his room, curled up on his bed, completely shattered.

At three and a half John just didn't seem to understand. He kept asking me over and over when his Mother was coming home and simply looked at me blankly when I said she wasn't.

Thirteen month old Gordon was fractious and unhappy and he got worse with each day that passed. He wanted Lucy, not me, and even though I was trying my best to take her place I wasn't being very successful.

Little Alan was still under observation in the hospital. There was now a new concern he might have suffered brain damage as a result of the lack of oxygen during his birth. My stomach churned when I got the call asking permission for him to undergo urgent and expensive tests.

I shrivelled within myself as one thing after another continued to go wrong.

When I had been faced with the countdown of the moon mission, scared as I felt, a part of me seemed to rise up from nowhere to take charge of the moment and do what was expected of me.

But not this time. I was still in shock with what had happened and completely numb with grief. At a time when I should have been taking charge of the household, making decisions and reassuring the kids I simply fell apart.

Instead of doing what was needed, I did other things ... stupid things … things I regretted for years and years afterwards. Things like destroy the thing Lucy loved the most - her beloved lavender garden.

I haven't got any excuse for it. All I can say to you is I just had to do it. The smell of lavender wafting through a house which now seemed so empty only made the pain of losing Lucy cut deeper. I couldn't tolerate inhaling that beautiful smell which reminded me so much of her.

I didn't care how lovingly she had tended it or how much pleasure it had given her, I worked myself into an utter frenzy tearing out the fragrant plants and flinging them as far away from me as I physically could. I didn't stop until every single plant was gone.

Then I looked around breathlessly at the bare earth, leaned on my shovel and sobbed my heart out.

When I stopped crying long enough to look around me I noticed a little boy sitting on the porch watching. A little boy with big brown eyes, chestnut hair and an impish Evans face.

Virgil.

Tears trickled down his cheeks even though he didn't make a sound. He had helped Lucy plant her lavender garden when we moved to Boston and he had loved it every bit as much as she did. And now, like his beloved Mommy, his garden had been taken away from him too.

I turned away without a word and strode into the house. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. If I did I'd have to look at him and every time I looked at him all I could see was Lucy.

And all I could do was cry.

I stood under the shower for hours but the smell of the lavender steadfastly refused to leave me. It seemed like it was indelibly etched into the palms of my hands in the same permanent way Lucy was etched into my heart. I sobbed harder and continued to scrub myself mercilessly.

My Father's words and stern upbringing reared up as I looked at my reddened face in the bathroom mirror.

"Tracy sons don't cry." I admonished myself, swallowing my tears and trying to tighten my jaw.

But my lips trembled and the tears continued to run down my face.

"Tracy sons don't cry." I said brushing them away vehemently. "Act like a man."

The upper lip stiffened and I forced the tears to stop.

I could almost hear my Father's gruff words of affirmation from above me. "That's better."

The days passed but the emotion I needed to let out built up inside me like a pressure cooker. I ignored the lump sitting in my throat and the pain tearing at my gut and stupidly refused to succumb to my basic human need to grieve.

Tracy sons didn't cry.

Mother was worried sick at how impassive I appeared to be and I became worse when I had to ask her to agree to sell the farm.

I couldn't afford to pay for the funeral, not even the most basic and simple one and no matter what I had to sell, even if it was the clothes off my back, Lucy was going to get a decent funeral.

"The farm has to be sold Momma." I said with absolutely no emotion in my voice. "And it has to be sold now."

Mother was dismayed at losing her home even though she had agreed to make a quick and permanent move to Boston to help me with the children.

She offered to lend me the money for the funeral if I'd reconsider. I point blank refused and demanded we sell the farm immediately. Luckily Bill and Katie were happy to buy it but Bill explained it would take him more than just a couple of days to get the money together.

"I'm sorry Jeff. I know why you need the money. "he apologised."But Katie and me ain't in a position to give it to you up front."

Mother again offered to pay for the funeral.

This time I was forced to swallow my pride and accept.

I had no cash. The Bank kept taking it as fast as I made it. With the debt from the stalled Asian expansion hanging over my head the situation with the Company was hopeless.

The lump in my throat got bigger and was now so bad I could hardly swallow. The pain in my gut had become excruciating and it was causing me to almost double over.

But Tracy sons didn't cry.

The arrangements for Lucy were made and Mother began to worry about the older children and how they were going to deal with the funeral. It didn't help when I refused to discuss anything to do with it and continued to remain emotionless and detached.

"Jefferson … talk to me." she begged as I sat in silence night after night staring at the wall. "Please stop bottling up how you feel."

"I don't want to talk." I replied with a face of stone. "There's nothing I want to say."

She tried to put her arms around me but I shrugged her away angrily.

"Look Momma just leave me alone will you!!!" I ranted rising to my feet.

"Baby please don't do this to yourself." she whispered in despair as I pushed past her on my way out of the house.

My cold and unemotional state was one thing but my see-sawing behaviour was now another.

The day before the funeral I really went over the top.

Faced with the reality of saying my final goodbye, I stormed around the house like a madman removing absolutely every photograph of Lucy I could find…photographs of the earlier and more happy times; photographs of our wedding; photographs of her with the boys. One by one I tossed them angrily into a big cardboard box and threw the box upstairs in the attic.

I didn't want to be reminded of what I had lost. I didn't want to be reminded I was now alone with five kids to raise. I didn't want to be reminded of anything to do with Lucy at all.

My little boys followed me around and watched me do it.

"Tracy sons don't cry do you hear me?" I barked when I caught sight of Scott's eyes overflowing. "You're the eldest. You should know better."

Scott nodded and lowered his curly head.

"Yes Daddy." he murmured in a tiny and desolate voice.

The five year old with the big brown eyes, chestnut hair and impish Evans face was far too upset to hear me. I had just thrown the photograph of him and his Mother sitting at the piano into the box and shattered the glass into a thousand pieces.

"Go to your room if you can't stop that nonsense Virgil." I snapped as he sobbed in front of me openly. "I just told you Tracy sons do NOT cry."

Poor little Virgil. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes but the tears kept right on coming. In the end it was all too much for him and the sobs began to escape once again. Scott quickly took his hand and led him away.

Dear God I almost can't bear to think about it. I made such terrible mistakes with the kids back then.

The mistakes only got worse too. Lucy's funeral was the next one.

Tracy sons didn't cry.

I said it to myself over and over again throughout the service. I didn't cry but I was a complete and utter mess. I didn't acknowledge anyone other than with a devastated nod of my head. I don't even remember who was there. All I knew was that I was saying goodbye to the only person I had ever loved from the bottom of my heart and I didn't want to see her go.

And then the mistake I have never forgiven myself for.

Scott broke down next to me at the cemetery after being so terribly brave throughout the service. If ever a man should have been proud of his son, it was that day. The poor kid stood alone beside his Mother's casket and read a passage from the Bible without missing a word. He returned to sit beside me trying not to cry. He stood in silence holding Johnny's hand while I woodenly shook people's hands outside the church. He courageously accompanied me to the grave. But that was where his bravery ended. There was only so much an eight year could take and when they began to lower his Mother into the ground right in front of his eyes, the poor little boy dissolved completely.

"No Momma." he sobbed as the casket disappeared from view.

I put my arm around him and tried to comfort him and as I did my eyes somehow came to rest on Virgil. He was crumpled in his Grandmother's arms and was even more distressed than Scott. Mother was clutching him tightly and trying her best to quiet his heart-wrenching sobs.

I took one look at those brown eyes and had to turn away. I could see he wanted me to hold him too and I should have called him to come to me … I know I should have …but the truth is I couldn't bring myself to do it. Looking at him only gave me pain and with the lump in my throat and the pain in my gut I couldn't tolerate any more pain.

My eyes turn to look at him now. Yes I'm STILL waiting for Alan and Tin-Tin to "bring in the coffee". I swear if they don't get back in here soon....

Virgil is such a handsome young man with his big brown eyes, chestnut hair and impish Evans face. I love him dearly and he has never given me anything but unconditional love and respect in return. So how could I have done that to him when his Mother died you ask me?

I wish I knew myself. He was little more than a baby when Lucy was taken away and all he wanted was to be held by his Daddy and reassured everything was going to be all right.

And his Daddy failed him.

Grief is such a painful journey.

After the funeral was over Mother drove me to the maternity hospital. Even though the family was distraught and devastated, we had to face up to the full extent of our loss.

It was time to bring Alan home.

I've never felt more hopeless in my life as I did when I saw that baby again. He lay alone, tucked away in the far corner of the special care nursery, out of sight and out of mind. The sight of him really drove the truth home. This wasn't a thirteen month old baby. This was a newborn; small, fragile and totally dependent.

I peered anxiously at his tiny face. He was still dreadfully bruised but much to my relief I was informed he hadn't suffered any brain damage.

The sister in charge of maternity sat me down and systematically began to go over what I needed to do to care for him.

I honestly didn't listen and I never heard a single word she said. I was too busy staring straight ahead and contemplating the mammoth job which lay ahead of me. All the things Lucy used to do I now had to do plus try to find the time to work and provide for the five of them. I didn't know how I was going to manage and I was absolutely scared to death.

"Are you right with all that Mr Tracy?" she enquired.

"I think so ma'am." I replied in a shaky voice knowing full well I didn't have a clue.

Then she led me to the storeroom at the end of the corridor and handed me Lucy's suitcase. Into my other hand she quietly pressed a white envelope.

I lowered my head and stared at the floor trying to deal with what I knew was inside it.

Twenty-one years on I still haven't dealt with it. I've never opened the envelope she gave me to this day. It lies, still sealed, in the attic.

Yes I know what you're thinking. Alan deserves to see the one and only picture of him with his mother and God willing, one of these days I'll be able to bring myself to show him.

But not until I think he's ready to deal with it.

Yeah … and I can tell you right now that day won't be until both of us are ready to deal with it.

The formalities of releasing Alan came to an end and the sister accompanied me back to the special care nursery so I could finally take him home.

She leaned over his crib and gently lifted him out. He stirred and opened two sleepy little blue eyes.

"I'm going to miss you little fellow." she said with a real and deep-seated emotion in her voice. "Now I want you to promise you'll be a good boy for your Daddy OK? He's up against it at the moment and needs you to make life easy for him."

She held him out to me and gave me a smile tempered with sadness as I awkwardly took him into my arms. I stood there not knowing what I was supposed to say next.

"Umm. … I'd like to thank you for everything you've done for me and my family ma'am." I eventually managed to mutter. "I appreciate it."

The words nearly killed me. I didn't want to say them. I really wanted to say I only brought Lucy here to have a baby and somehow the people in this place had managed to kill her.

But my impeccable upbringing didn't allow me to say something like that. Mom and Dad had raised me to be polite no matter what the circumstances were.

"If you can't open your mouth to say somethin' positive Jefferson, don't open it at all." had always been the rule.

Besides that, the guilt I was feeling didn't allow me to blame anyone. What had happened to Lucy wasn't the sister's fault, or the hospital's fault or even the surgeon's fault.

It was my fault.

If I had seen to myself when I was supposed to none of this would have happened.

The awkwardness continued.

"Well, I guess I'd better be on my way with him ma'am." I said bending down to pick up the suitcase in my free hand. "The other children are waiting in the car.

"All the best Mr. Tracy." she nodded walking with me towards the door.

And so at thirty five years of age, emotionally broken and on the brink of financial ruin, I left the hospital with my newborn son in my arms to restart my life as a single Father. I wasn't ready for what lay ahead of me. The children weren't ready for it either. But the six of us didn't have a choice. Lucy was gone and we all had to learn to live without her.

Then the stress began.

Alan was a very unsettled baby and cried for attention twenty four hours a day. It was always something different. If he wasn't hungry he had wind, if it wasn't wind, it was a diaper. If it wasn't any of it, he simply cried without reason. Mother said it was because no-one had held him very much during his first week of life and she guessed he needed to feel loved. Those words, even through she uttered them with the best of intentions, made me feel terrible.

I tried really hard to make up for it but even when I held Alan close to me he continued to cry. There was never a moment's peace.

Gordon grizzled and complained most of the time too. At first I told myself it was because he was still looking for Lucy but after a while it became evident he wasn't missing his Mother. He'd started to cut new teeth. He made no bones about the fact he was uncomfortable and the constant whining of a teething toddler coupled with the screaming of a hysterical newborn almost drove me to distraction.

The days turned into nights and the nights turned into days. It was all the same to me. I didn't sleep and I didn't eat. I refused to let myself grieve. I didn't communicate with the older kids or with Mother. Johnny kept crying for Lucy. I had deadlines to meet with the business.

The volcano bubbled and it was obvious something was about to give.

And when it did, which poor child do you think was on the receiving end of it?

You're right.

Virgil.

One morning he made the dreadful mistake of trying to play his Mother's piano after I had been up all night with the babies.

I know the child was only trying to create a bit of happiness for himself, Lord knows there wasn't any other happiness around him, but unfortunately it wasn't the way I saw it. I was physically exhausted and totally irrational and when I heard Virgil trying to play one of the tunes Lucy taught him on the piano it was the absolute end for me.

I completely lost my temper, stormed out of my makeshift Office and almost tore him from the piano. I swear I banged down the lid so hard the whole house must have shook.

"I'll have no more of that rubbish in this house." I shouted angrily at the little boy with the big brown eyes, chestnut hair, and impish Evans face. "Do you understand me Virgil?"

His bottom lip began to tremble but this time he knew better than to cry. He stood nodding his head in front of me without a word.

Luckily, and I really do mean that, Mother decided enough was enough.

She finally decided to step in and in her usual style didn't care what time of the day or night she did it.

At three o'clock in the morning there was a curt knock on my door as I underwent my usual struggle to feed and diaper Alan. I always tried to attend to his night feeds without waking anyone but nine times out of ten I always managed to wake up Gordon.

Sure enough when I opened the door there was Mother holding my wide eyed fourteen month old in her arms. Unlike his three week old brother who screamed and chewed ravenously on his fist, Gordon gave me a cheeky smile and held out his arms to me. I wished I could have found the energy to smile at him but I barely had enough left to drag myself back to the diaper change.

"I'm sorry he woke you again Momma." I apologised over the screaming. "Just leave him over there on the bed and I'll get to him next."

"Don't be so ridiculous." she frowned striding forward to grab herself a diaper. "Stop trying to act like some kind of Superman Jefferson because it's pretty damned obvious to me that you're not."

There was a disgruntled tone to her voice and normally I'd have taken notice of the warning but at three o'clock in the morning, no sleep and an important video conference coming up later in the day, I wasn't in the mood for a lecture.

"For God's sake I'm doing my best Momma." I snapped rudely.

Oh boy I shouldn't have said that. You can say your piece to Mother but you NEVER be rude to her.

Before I knew what had hit me I was ordered down to the dining room, handed the bottle to give to Alan and told to shut my mouth and listen. How my Mother could gently rock a toddler back to sleep in her arms and still bawl me out has to be the eighth wonder of the world.

And as it turned out she had every reason to be furious with me. As I held Alan in my arms and watched him drink his bottle, she told me what had happened in the house less than two hours before.

She had come downstairs to get a glass of water only to find my five year old sitting alone in the dark in front of Lucy's piano, head down, hands folded, grieving in silence.

"And before you say anything … DON"T." she warned. "That poor little boy is heartbroken. In case you haven't realised it he's no different to your other little boys. He has lost his Mother too and you're making no effort Jefferson ... none _**whatsoever** _to comfort him."

I rubbed my tired eyes.

"Mom..." I sighed.

"Don't you Mom me Jefferson." she warned. "Do you know what that child just said to me? Do you? He said he didn't know why his Daddy didn't love him anymore. I couldn't believe it. I damn near broke down and cried myself."

I moved around uncomfortably in the chair not knowing where to look.

"That isn't true - of course I love him." I said in a low and embarrassed voice.

"Yes he can certainly tell can't he? Tore out his lavender garden in front of his eyes, smashed his favourite picture, ignored him at his Mother's funeral, now this nonsense with the piano..." she stormed. "He's FIVE Jefferson... FIVE YEARS OLD. It's not his fault he looks like Lucy. You should be treasuring that child and loving him … not shutting him out like..."

She paused for a moment and then swallowed tearfully. "Like you're shutting out everyone else in your life who cares about you."

I didn't look up and I didn't reply. There was no guessing Mother was upset but it didn't make any difference to how she was delivering the reality check.

"You won't let me help you. You won't even tell me how you feel. Hell Jefferson look at you. You can't even stand up straight anymore." she pointed out with frustration. "You're buckling under the weight of this son and all you can do is push me away."

I stubbornly refused to admit she was right.

"I'm coping Momma." I argued.

"You are NOT coping." she argued back.

"I AM." I stressed fixing my eyes on hers with a growing anger at her interference. "And I won't have you or anyone else telling me that I'm not do you hear me?"

After a few minutes of tension-filled silence she stood up and shook her head in resignation.

"Well Jefferson for what the hell it's worth I don't think that you are. But no matter what you believe about yourself I can tell you something right now. My little Grandson certainly isn't coping and it's your fault that he isn't. He was very close to his Mother and unlike Johnny; Virgil's old enough to understand she isn't going to be coming back. What he doesn't understand is YOU and for the life of me he's not the only one at the moment."

"Thank you Mother and good night." I snapped making it clear to her that I was ending our conversation.

"Good night yourself." she said almost as abruptly as me. "It would do you good to think about what I've just said and do something about it."

She paused in the doorway with Gordon asleep in her arms.

"And please try to get some sleep Jefferson. You really do need it."

Jefferson. I always knew Mother meant business when she called me Jefferson.

Once I got Alan back to sleep, I made my way upstairs and climbed back into bed feeling weary and miserable. I rolled over onto my side and ran my hand slowly across the empty space beside me. The reality of the emptiness only made me feel worse. Lucy was gone and I would never hold her again. I reached out for her pillow and buried my face in it.

Virgil.

I'd been so ecstatic when Lucy informed me she was pregnant again. The pregnancy had been like a kind of moral victory over her stubbornness. She didn't want another baby until I came home from the moon but after months of pressure and dissent from me she begrudgingly agreed to have one. Believe me I didn't get Lucy Evans to change her mind about anything very often and when she conceived immediately it made the victory ever so much sweeter. Virgil was born looking exactly like her and I had been smitten with him from the moment I saw him. He was a beautiful child.

I thought about Mother's words to me in the dining room. If I loved him as much as I professed I did, I certainly had a funny way of showing it. My conscience ate away at me. Virgil was only a little boy and he couldn't help who he looked like.

I fell asleep with the pillow in my arms determined to put things right.

Trying to make it up to the child wasn't easy.

Virgil was very hurt and confused and I supposed I couldn't really blame him with the way I had been carrying on. He looked at me with apprehension when I called him to come to me and hardly said a word as I sat him on my lap and tried to set about rectifying things.

"You know Daddy loves you very much don't you Virgil?" I choked forcing myself to look into the big brown eyes of Lucy Evans.

Tears began to fill those eyes and I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Daddy does love you son." I repeated, anxiety tempering my every word. "He's just … well … finding things a little bit hard at the moment without Mommy to help him with the babies that's all."

"Yes Sir." he acknowledged almost as if he knew the answer was expected of him.

"Sir."

My heart dropped. Up until now he had only ever called me Daddy.

"I want my Mommy to come back home." he eventually admitted in a tearful little voice.

"Of course you do." I acknowledged and closed my eyes as he buried his chestnut head in my chest and began to cry. The pain in my gut almost tore me apart as I held him close to me. What sort of Father could have allowed this little boy to grieve alone for over three weeks?

The answer was easy I'm afraid; the same thoughtless Father who forgot his eldest son's ninth birthday.

I warned you that I made some horrendous mistakes raising the boys but forgetting the significance of the fourth of April that year was one of the biggest mistakes of all.

Scott had been so good for me since the funeral. He didn't cry after his Mother in front of me and he didn't talk about her either. He got himself ready for school, did his homework as soon as he got home, helped his Grandmother with the chores and quietly put himself to bed. I guess in a lot of ways he was too good because with the strain of everything else going on around me, it was all too easy to overlook the one child who wasn't giving me any trouble.

On top of that the fourth of April that year was a horrendous day for me with the Business. I lost two valuable contracts for failing to meet a promised deadline. Neither of my clients wanted to hear my wife had just died and I was struggling to cope with a newborn baby and four other children. They only wanted their deadlines met. The Bank rang later in the day to say an interest payment was two weeks overdue. Alan screamed his head off all day long and I couldn't to get to the new aircraft design the Air Force was hammering me for.

I was too preoccupied with myself to watch my eldest son's face crumble when there was no birthday cake on the table at supper time. I was too busy planning how I was going to cover the slack from the two lost contracts to notice his disappointment when there were no party games or presents. I was too worried about finding the money for the bank to see the tears in his eyes as he excused himself and went to bed nearly three hours earlier than normal.

And I was too worn out to hear Virgil break the rules in the middle of the night to play "Happy birthday "for him on the piano trying to make him feel better.

But Mother heard.

And Mother was appalled.

"Oh my God Jeff." she whispered in dismay, dragging my exhausted body out of bed yet again and motioning me towards the stairs. "He's crying his eyes out down there. How could we have forgotten him like this?"

I hung my head again as I trudged wearily downstairs. Now I had another blot on my copybook. What a terrible Father I was. Lucy would never forgive me for this one.

Birthdays in our house had always been the most important celebrations of the year. She had always made sure they were memorable and fun even when we were struggling. There had always been crazy party games to play. There had always been little inexpensive presents. And most importantly there had always been a birthday cake with candles followed by a great big hug from Daddy.

But today there had been no big hug from Daddy.

Daddy hadn't even remembered.

The days rolled on and so did my path to self destruction. It took every ounce of strength I had just to drag myself out of bed and face the misery of another day. Every day it was the same; the crying, the endless diaper changes, the sad little faces, the mess which used to be the business.

And the same wretched pain in my heart.

I began to drink to numb myself.

But even with an overload of Scotch running through my veins Alan still seemed to scream louder and more often, Gordon was still into everything and Johnny still continued to cry after Lucy and be difficult. I was too exhausted to design. I was too worried about money to sleep. The lump in my throat made it impossible to eat.

But I was convinced I was coping.

It had now been three months since Lucy died and I was in a bigger mess emotionally than when I first lost her. Mother was beside herself with worry and begged me to seek professional help.

I refused.

I was coping I told her through gritted teeth and for the last time I didn't need anybody's help.

.... Until one warm night in the middle of June when it all came crashing down.

I had been working non-stop for forty eight hours on a contract which was really important to the future of the American operation. Mother had told me earlier I looked terrible and pleaded with me to go to bed and get some badly needed sleep. I declined because I had a deadline to meet. I'd lost the last two contracts for failing to meet deadlines and we couldn't afford for me to lose any more contracts.

Alan woke around seven o'clock and started crying for his bottle.

I rose from my desk, went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator.

I walked upstairs and into my bedroom while I waited for the bottle to heat.

Alan stopped crying when he saw me and flailed his arms in anticipation of being fed.

I stood looking down at him in his cot for what seemed like forever.

I took him out.

I changed his diaper.

I picked him back up.

The room swam.

Alan started screaming.

And that's the last thing I remember.

Three days later I woke up in small darkened room with Mother sitting in a worried silence beside my bed.

"Where? Where am I?" I croaked, my bleary eyes slowly moving around the room.

"You're in the hospital sweetie." she replied reaching out to take my hand. "You've been under sedation here for nearly three days now."

In response to my dazed and disjointed questions the story of what had happened to me unravelled.

Mother said she became worried when I didn't return to the kitchen to get Alan's bottle, particularly when she knew Alan wasn't a patient baby. She decided to go upstairs to check on things when his screaming became louder. It was then she found me sitting on the floor, my eyes wide-open and sightless, crushing Alan to my chest. She told me I was sobbing my heart out and saying over and over again "Tracy sons don't cry."

"Son you've suffered a nervous breakdown." she went on trying to stem the tide of her own tears, "…and the Doctor told me a few moments ago it's going to be a long time before you'll be able to get back on top of things again."

I closed my eyes and bit my trembling lips together. When did this nightmare ever end?

"Why Luce?" I remember thinking. "Why are you letting this happen to me?"

"You need food. You need rest. You need counselling." Mother stumbled on.

And then she dropped the bombshell. Above all I needed to forget about the business.

"You've got to learn to deal with what's happened to you Jeff." she insisted before lowering her voice and swallowing. "Even if it means losing everything you and Lucy worked so hard for."

"No Momma." I murmured in dismay. "Please … I can handle things. I … I can. Just give me a few days to …"

But Mother wouldn't hear any more.

"Stop it Jeff. You're not capable of handling anything at the moment." she said firmly. "You can't even handle yourself. You nearly crushed that little baby with your bare hands the other night and you would have if I hadn't found you when I did. Now I'm sorry to be so blunt with you sweetie but both your Doctor and myself have decided you're going to stay in here until you get a grip on things and there is absolutely NO room for you to negotiate."

I closed my eyes again as she persisted. I hadn't realised the extent of my deterioration until now.

"You've lost nearly a third of your body weight. You've done nothing but cry since you've been under sedation. You're ill Jefferson and the only way you're going to get better is if you tear down the barriers you've built to shut out your feelings and let people help you. "

Then the strongest message of all.

"Because if you don't listen to me this time son, it won't only be Lucy you'll find you've lost." she warned. "You'll be losing your children too."

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

**Stage Six – The Recovery**

Mother's final words that day changed everything. As far as I was concerned nothing meant more to me than my children; not even the business Lucy and I had built together from nothing. I loved all five of them from the bottom of my heart and I was prepared to do anything to make sure I didn't lose them.

I spent almost six weeks in hospital and during that difficult period Mother raised the children alone. I don't know how the heck she managed it but as with everything that Mother takes on, she simply gritted her teeth and struggled through.

She always looked tired and pale when she came to visit and I felt guilty she was being forced to shoulder all of my responsibilities. However she declined to discuss anything to do with herself. All she cared about was me, how I was feeling and if I was learning how to come to terms with losing Lucy.

Finally after weeks of pretty well solitary confinement I was allowed to come home but with a stern warning from my Doctor to continue to care for myself properly or I'd soon be coming back.

"DADDY!!!!!!" was the excited chorus from Virgil and John as I came through the front door with my bag.

I hugged each of them individually, followed by baby Gordon who toddled down the hallway with his arms outstretched the moment he heard my voice.

"Grandma taught me to set the table Daddy." Virgil said proudly.

"And Grandma taught me how to tie my shoes." John piped up.

"That's wonderful!" I enthused tousling their hair. "You've both grown into such big responsible boys since I've been away haven't you?"

Their eyes shone with pride in themselves and they nodded their heads together happily.

"Hello Daddy." came a worried little voice from the other direction.

I turned around to meet the dark blue eyes of my eldest son. Unlike his younger brothers, apprehension lined his whole face. Mother told me he had been upset for weeks. He had witnessed my breakdown.

"Hello son." I smiled hesitantly, moving forward to wrap my arms around him. "I was wondering where you were."

"I was upstairs helping Grandma Sir." he replied hugging me with real affection.

"Ah ...I see…being a good boy for me as always eh? "I acknowledged looking down at him and smiling again. "Grandma's been telling me what a great help you've been to her while I've been gone."

The words of praise went completely over his head. Like Mother all he cared about was me.

"Daddy are you going to be OK now?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm getting there." I assured him. "Don't you worry about me son. I'm fine."

His face lit up with relief and he pressed his curly head against my body.

"I'm real glad Daddy." he murmured into my waist and hugging me again. "Real, real glad."

Later that evening and long after the children had been put to bed Mother brought Alan in to me to be given his evening bottle. The guilt I felt as she placed him in my arms was overwhelming.

"Hey there little guy." I said sadly looking into his vibrant blue eyes. "How've you been doin' without your Daddy?"

My four and a half month old baby son's eyes widened with recognition and almost from nowhere he gave me the most spontaneous, almost forgiving smile. I felt tears brimming in my eyes. He was such a beautiful baby and Lucy would have just loved him. The guilt reared up again. How could I have ever said I didn't want him?

"Humph ...you tell your Daddy you've been causing the same trouble you always do Alan Shepard Tracy." Mother commented with a frown. "You've been fussin' and fidgetin' and yellin' at the top of your lungs ever since he left the house haven't you?"

Her frown disappeared as he stuffed his fist in his mouth and gurgled at her with adoration. She smiled and leaned forward to tweak his chubby chin.

"And you know exactly how to get around your Grandma too don't you?" she continued as his smile grew wider. "Now you stop that flirtin' with me right this minute and tell Daddy what you've been up to since he's been gone."

"What's he been doing Mom?" I asked looking up at her with interest.

"Well our little Alan has finally worked out the night time is supposed to be for sleeping. It's taken him nearly five months to figure it out but for the past few days he's been going down at nine and sleeping all the way till four." she explained.

My face lit up. Nine until four. That meant I now had seven straight hours available to work without interruption.

"Oh no you don't Jeff Tracy!!!" she exclaimed somehow managing to read my mind. "That's when you're going to be sleeping yourself is that clear?"

There was a real firmness in her tone and the firmness remained as she continued.

"Now you'd better get yourself mighty comfortable in your armchair young man because you and I are about to have a serious talk about how things are going to be done around here from now on. I don't want to experience the misery of watching you fall apart again."

I opened my mouth to reply only to be cut short with a bottle being shoved into my hand for Alan and one of her very pointed warnings.

"Don't you argue with me Jefferson." she thundered.

I smiled and shook my head at her. After six weeks in hospital I had no intention of arguing.

The long and serious talk we had ended up forming the basis of a regimented contingency plan to ensure the survival of my young family.

Mother covered everything, when I should sleep, what I should eat, the new routine she had put in place in the house and lots of suggestions on how I could cope better with the children. She acknowledged I wanted to do everything for them myself but tried to make me understand that with everything else I had to do it was impossible.

"Lucy herself admitted she couldn't cope without help Jeff." she pointed out. "So please don't think it's a sign of weakness to admit the same thing to yourself. I moved in here to help you so I expect you're going to let me."

"I suppose so." I muttered with reluctance.

"I know so." was the authoritative reply.

Then she paused for a few moments as if trying to find the right words for what was coming next.

"Now." she began carefully. "I know you aren't going to like this but that's just too bad in my opinion. It has to be discussed whether you want to discuss it or not."

At my confused look she stopped sidestepping the issue and came straight out with it.

"We have to talk about what you're going to do about the business Jeff."

The conversation immediately became heated. Mother had been wonderful to me but there was no way in hell she was going to tell me what to do with the Company.

Wrong again.

"You get down off your high horse right this minute Jefferson and listen to what I have to say to you." she insisted. "I know I'm no business brain but I've been thinking long and hard about it for the past six weeks and from the way I see it you only have three options left."

"Which are?" I said in a real huff.

"Don't you take that tone with me." she warned. "You have the courtesy to hear me out please."

"All right then. "I replied in a voice laced with sarcasm. "Fire away Mother since you think you know so much."

Much to my surprise she leaned forward and gave me a nod of acknowledgement. "Very well then Jefferson; I will."

She held up one finger at me. "One … you forget about the whole thing now and find work elsewhere."

I looked at her stonily.

"No." I growled. "I happen to be good at what I do."

She held up two fingers. "Two …wait until you lose everything to the Bank including your home and then you forget about it."

This time I said nothing. Good or not, option two was the direction I was heading in at the moment.

She held up three fingers. "Three … Recommence your expansion into Asia."

My stony look changed to one of complete surprise. I just couldn't run off to Asia for six months. Who was going to take care of the kids?

"You know I'm no longer in a position to do that momma." I responded looking down at Alan. "I've got big responsibilities here and you know what Lucy thought about me shirking my responsibilities."

This time is was Mother's turn to say nothing.

"Besides …" I continued. "I'm stone motherless broke. I haven't got any capital left to kick-start anything."

"Yes you do. You have the money from the farm." she said forthright voice. "And I want you to use it."

My mind ticked over. I supposed I could. The markets were still there. I still had the engineering expertise. I'd done the research. It was simply a matter of injecting some funds to get the construction going again. But then I looked down again at the baby. Lucy wouldn't want me to leave him or any of the children. Family was everything and I was all they had now.

"I'll think about it Mom." I replied rising to my feet. "As you can imagine it's a lot for me to absorb at the moment."

"But you will think about it won't you Jeff?" she insisted somehow knowing it was my intention to eventually decline.

Her face had such a look of assertiveness all I could do was agree.

"Yes ma'am I promise I'll think about it. Now if you'll excuse me I have things I have to do."

As I went to leave the room with Alan in my arms Mother called me back.

"After you've put him down Jeff we still have one last thing we need to discuss." she said looking me straight in the eyes.

I looked away.

"No Momma. I don't want to talk about Lucy."

"Sweetie … you've got to let it out." she faltered in frustration but this time I was having none of it. I'd been forced to sit in a room for hours on end with a Grief Counsellor when I was in the hospital and it hadn't made a shred of difference. I hadn't talked about her then and I wasn't about to talk about her now.

"I know you think it will help me ma'am and thank you very much for the offer but like I said before... I've got things to do."

With that I walked away.

Yeah …

And I've been walking away ever since.

I thought long and hard about Mother's options and eventually came to the decision I had to take the third one. The only way I could manage to stay in business was to invest the capital from the farm in the Company and hoped the gamble paid off.

"I'll pay you back every cent Mom." I promised. "And I'll buy the farm back for you the very first minute I can afford it."

She disagreed with a sad shake of her head.

"No …Forget it son. The farm's old history now. Daddy knew you wouldn't keep it and I think it's more important we look to the future of this family don't you?"

I guessed she had a point. Living in the past was getting us nowhere.

My determination grew as I doggedly recommenced expansion into Asia. I flew myself to Tokyo month on, month off to supervise production. I didn't like leaving the boys but once I got myself over there and stopped worrying about them, the work proved to be very therapeutic. I didn't have time to think about Lucy when I was deep in thought about the business and I soon figured out the longer I worked during the day the less hours I had in the evening to remember. The hours I worked were crazy but it was certainly better than lying in my hotel room staring at the ceiling and wishing she would come back to me.

The months I spent at home were even busier. Trying to recover in Business and be Mother and Father to five kids wasn't easy. It was very draining trying to fit everything in and most of the time I felt I was out of my depth. However when it all became too much for me I would focus on my work and once I did I found I was better able to cope. It was only when I thought about Lucy and how unfair life had been to me that I started falling apart.

So I didn't allow myself to think about her.

But my little boys did.

Most of time they were good and as the months rolled on the three eldest started to laugh and play amongst themselves again. Sometimes you would think nothing had ever happened. But every now and then their little faces would fill with sadness and the silence in our home, once so full of love and happiness was awful. It was during those days they wanted to talk about "Mommy" and I had absolutely no intention of discussing her.

"Jeff you really need to start talking to them about Lucy." Mother stressed. "I listen to them when they need to let things out but they want to tell YOU how they're feeling."

As usual, the pig headedness and denial flared up. Any thought of talking about Lucy only brought the pain back and I had become very adept at shutting out my pain.

"I already know how they're feeling and there's no need for anyone to talk about it. They've suffered far too much with this already and to be quite frank with you Mother so have I."

Mother simply stood in front of me shaking her head in disappointment

"Son don't you understand? That's the very reason you do need to talk about her."

"No Mother I don't think YOU understand." I interjected firmly. "That's the very reason I do not."

And so it became an unspoken rule in the Tracy house. Nobody talked about Lucille. There were no photographs any more, there were no memories, and now there were no words.

Construction was completed in Tokyo three days before Alan's first birthday and I was able to return to America permanently. It was hard not to feel uneasy as I flew in over Boston knowing my entire future was on the line. It was make it or break it time for Tracy Enterprises. Everything I had was invested in the business.

Operations commenced immediately and as production in Tokyo went into full swing; my attention was diverted back to family matters.

Lucy's first anniversary was the first ordeal I had to face soon after arriving back in Boston. I couldn't believe a year had passed since I'd lost her but when Mother carried Alan down to breakfast with a party hat on his head I knew for a sad fact that it had.

"Is Alan having a birthday party Grandma?" asked Virgil, his eyes growing wide with excitement.

"No Alan is NOT having a birthday party." I growled before Mother even had the chance to answer him. "He's a baby and he even doesn't understand what having a birthday party means."

Virgil coloured and said nothing else.

I hung my head unhappily.

I didn't mean to sound so terse. I was only stating the facts. But irrespective of how I meant to sound, my conscience ate away at me immediately.

"_There you go again; bottling up how you feel and taking it out on Virgil._

Mother glared at me for a few moments before taking the hat off Alan's head and smoothing down his blonde curls. The other little faces around the table grew sad. The lump rose up into my throat at the sight of them and the pain in my gut returned. But I didn't relent. Mother might have wanted to find something to celebrate on the twelfth of March but I most certainly didn't.

After breakfast I took Scott, Virgil and John with me to the cemetery. The four of us stood beside Lucy's grave under a grey and threatening sky.

Twelve months on, I still found it hard to hide my devastation whenever I came to this cold and lonely place.

"Hey baby girl how's things? …" I began silently lowering my eyes to look at the unmarked grave. "I can't believe it's been a whole year now since you left me."

Then my confession started; a noiseless admission of my inadequacies over the past twelve months.

"I don't think you'd be too pleased with me at the moment Luce." I confided. "I haven't been doin' too good without you I'm afraid...still strugglin' to make ends meet...not copin' with the kids…even broke down and ended up in hospital during the summer."

I felt my eyes cloud.

"But I've been lucky baby. Momma's got me back on track again and since she has I've been tryin' real hard to raise the kids right. Honest …"

I could picture Lucy if she would have been in a position to say something. I'd be on the back foot for sure.

But almost as if it was a sign I felt warmth and reassurance as a little boy slipped his hand into mine. I looked down at the chestnut head, big brown eyes and impish Evans face.

It was Virgil.

I squeezed his hand gratefully and tried to smile at him.

"Thanks Luce." I acknowledged turning my attention back to the grave. "You always seem to know when I'm needin' your support."

After a little while longer I bent down and almost with apology laid a small, very ordinary bunch of flowers on the grass.

"I know these aren't much but it was the best I could do this year Luce." I swallowed looking at the humble bouquet.

My remorse grew. She had given her life for me and this was all I could manage to scrape up to give her in return.

"But next year I'll afford somethin' better baby…I promise... roses…a hundred beautiful red roses just like the ones you used to love. And a gravestone with your name and everything about you in gold ..."

I stopped myself. I didn't want to think about the lack of money and how hard things were. The lump in my throat was big enough as it was.

I stood up abruptly, turned away from the grave and began to walk briskly towards the cemetery gates.

"Hurry on boys. It's time we were getting home." I muttered motioning them to walk in front of me. "Grandma will be expecting us and Daddy has work he needs to do."

Work ... the magical answer to everything.

As soon as we got back to the house I immediately went into my Office and closed the door. I picked up the telephone and made calls. I reviewed contracts and set production targets. I made more calls. I pulled out my designs and worked on them furiously. I only lifted my head once.

It was when I heard my little boys singing happy birthday to their baby brother at supper time. Their sweet innocent voices affected me so deeply the tears came from nowhere. I put down my pencil, swallowed hard and looked out the window at the darkening sky. This time one year ago...

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and returned to my designs. I didn't want to think about what happened one year ago.

Work ... the only thing that could ease the pain.

The day came when even burying myself in work wasn't enough to ease it. It was the day Alan walked to me. The pain when Alan plucked up the courage to stop holding onto the furniture and take his first unsteady steps was unbearable.

You see Mother and I had made a pact when I was at my lowest and it was one I knew she expected me to honour. We had both agreed on the day Alan walked, I would take the final step in saying goodbye to Lucy and dispose of her belongings. Mother warned me it would mean everything. I've never understood the logic behind it, but according to Mother getting rid of a deceased person's belongings was an important step in the healing process. She made me promise I would do it when Alan walked.

And now ... Alan had walked.

Mother immediately produced the twenty large cartons she had been storing in the attic for over twelve months.

"This has to be done Jefferson." she directed as I stood facing her with my head down refusing to co-operate. "I know it and you know it."

"I'll even do it for you if you like." she offered.

"No you won't thank you Mother." I murmured unhappily moving towards the stairs and snatching up two of the cartons. "I can do it by myself."

I might have thought I could handle it but as it turned out nothing could have been further from the truth. Clearing out Lucy's closet turned out to be one of the hardest, most heart wrenching things I've ever experienced.

Everything she owned held its own special memory for me, even down to her individual items of clothing... that fabulous low cut dress she wore the night we conceived John ... her favourite blue pullover ... her beautiful wedding dress...

I stared at the wedding dress, closed my eyes and recalled every detail of how she looked in it ... how breathless I had been when I saw her ... how happy the two of us had been ... Mr and Mrs Jefferson Grant Tracy ... a marriage we thought would last forever.

Into another box went her personal items ... her pretty feminine underwear... the negligee she had worn for me on our wedding night. Memories of our love-making surfaced... the ache of anticipation, the depth of our passion, the ecstasy of it ... the feeling of holding her body in my arms when it was over. I hadn't had any of those sensations in well over a year.

I closed the box and wiped my face.

And I hadn't even wanted them.

Another box ... the crazy hats and brightly coloured scarves she always managed to find ... the little pink dresses for the baby girl I never managed to give her ... her shoes ... her perfume ... her books... her whole life ...

The tears poured down my face as all of it was thrown into the boxes, one thing after another.

And then the tug on my sleeve and the tearful blue eyes of Johnny.

"No Daddy!!!!" he pleaded, distress written all over his face.

John was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that his mother wasn't coming back to him and at four and half the sight of me throwing out the only visible memories he had left to hold on to was far too much. I bit my lip and told him to go outside and play with his brothers.

But he wouldn't do what I wanted. He may have been quiet and unassuming but he was every bit as stubborn if not more stubborn than his Mother. He stood in front of me crying his heart out and begging me to stop. I turned away, crying hopelessly myself and continued. What I was doing had to be done. Why couldn't the kid just let me do it?

"No Daddy!!!" he screamed again and began to pull things back out of the boxes.

I swear I would have lost control of myself and caned the kid except for a steady voice sounding at the door.

"Johnny. That's enough now."

Thank God for my Mother.

She called John to come to her and set about trying to explain. She told him it was her idea to get rid of his Mother's things, not mine. She said I needed to do it so my heart could get better.

"And we both want Daddy's heart to get better don't we Johnny?" she soothed holding both his hands in hers. When he nodded his head sadly Mother asked him to be a good boy for her and leave me alone to finish the job.

John obeyed.

The whole experience completely cut me up and after I placed the cartons outside to be collected the harsh realisation finally hit me.

"She's gone momma." I sobbed breaking down on the porch and stooping over the railing. "This time I know she's really gone."

Mother called me into the house and held me in her arms for a very long time.

"Come on sweetie. It's time to stop crying after Lucy now. "she soothed rocking me like a child."Things are going to get a whole lot better for you soon. You'll see."

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

**Stage 7 - The Billionaire**

Things eventually did get better in my life but I'm sorry to say initially they only got better with the Business. Whilst Tracy Enterprises clawed its way back from the brink to superiority as an Aerospace Company again, I continued to struggle on as a single Father... running the routine in the house like a military operation ... working ridiculous hours ... demanding my little boys act like men.

…And still steadfastly refusing to talk to them about Lucy.

"You can't blame a six year old for asking the question." Mother argued with me one night in the middle of the dining room. "Any more than you can blame Scott for answering it."

I swung around and eyed her furiously. I'd been in New York on business for nearly a full week and I hadn't appreciated coming home to be questioned by Gordon at the Dinner table as to whether what Scott had told him about his Mother dying was true.

"Scott's thirteen and he knows what the rules are around here." I flashed reaching for my belt. "And let me say right now he's about to find out rules are not meant to be broken."

Mother immediately stepped in front of me creating a human barrier between me and the staircase.

"And did you stop to think WHY he might have broken your ridiculous rules?" Mother fired back. "Gordon's no longer a baby Jeff. He's at school and he's observant. Why wouldn't he ask why his family isn't like everyone else's?"

"Our family IS like everyone else's Mother." I snarled.

"We aren't when it comes to our family situation and you know it. Young Gordon worked it out the very first day he set foot in elementary school. Of course he's going to ask questions about why he doesn't have a Mother when all of his friends do."

"Well it wasn't up to his brother to answer his questions." I stressed. "He should have told Gordon to come to me."

"YOU weren't here for the child to ask." she stressed back.

"That's no excuse for Scott breaking my rules." I snapped pushing past her and striding towards the stairs. "Lord knows what the hell he's told Gordon about Lucille."

Mother followed me in real anger.

"Scott only would have told him the truth Jefferson and so help me God if you go up those stairs and punish that boy of yours for simply speakin' the truth to his little brother I swear I'll wipe my hands of you as a Daddy."

Her voice was almost a growl of demand and I knew better than to ignore it. Mother rarely interfered with me disciplining the boys but she was certainly interfering now.

I swung back again only to meet her angry flashing eyes.

"Scott's a good boy." she said lowering her voice and trying to calm down. "He doesn't complain or give you trouble. I can't even recall the last time he even asked you for anything. He's always putting his brothers first and himself last and I'm not going to stand by and watch you march up those stairs and cane that child for nothing."

I stood there for a few minutes breathing deeply and trying to calm myself down too. I'd been dreading the moment when I'd have to inform the youngest two children about what happened to their Mother and hadn't been prepared for the fact they might find out before I got around to telling them.

No real harm had been done. I guessed I _was_ over-reacting a bit.

My hand left my belt and I started to feel foolish.

"All right if it makes you happy Mother I'll just talk to him." I murmured before sighing in resignation. "And then I'll have to go and explain things properly to the little ones."

"You should be explaining things properly to all of them." came her disgruntled response. "Honestly Jeff you work yourself to death to provide everything for those children but you can't even provide them with the very basic thing they want."

"And what's that Mother?" I scoffed.

"Answers." she replied. "Why don't you answer their questions about their Mother and stop trying to run away from them. You might find once you do you'll be able to sit back and enjoy your children."

I looked her up and down and said point blank I did enjoy my children. I loved to talk to Scott about aviation and listen to Virgil playing the piano. I relished the evenings I spent watching the stars with Johnny. I even managed to smile every now and then when the youngest two got themselves into trouble and I had to pretend to be mad at them.

I just didn't do any of it very often.

I was always working.

"You're running away that's what you're doing." Mother pointed out. "Running away because all five of your boys have Lucille in them and you can't deal with the fact that they do."

She was right.

All the boys reminded me of Lucy in their own unique and special ways; Scott and Alan with their curly hair, Virgil, her mirror image; John with her articulate ways and Gordon who absolutely exuded her mischief from the very centre of his soul.

Well I could run away and hide behind my work when it came to Lucy but I certainly couldn't run away from what was about to happen in this family next.

The day came when I began to notice my eldest son was no longer a little boy. The transition seemed to happen quite suddenly. One month Scott was his normal proportionate self, the next he was towering over his younger brothers looking like a giant with ridiculously long legs and a voice that crackled and broke like nothing I had ever heard.

I knew there was only one explanation for this swift chain of events.

I swallowed.

Impending manhood.

Mother confirmed the diagnosis by complaining she had taken the legs of Scott's trousers down three times in the past eight weeks and they still looked too short when he wore them. "Not only that, have you seen the size of his feet Jeff?" she queried in amazement. "He's going to be a force to be reckoned with when the rest of his body catches up to him that's all I'll say."

Mother was lucky. Her concern only stemmed from the material side of what was happening to my thirteen and a half year old son. My stomach churned with inner dread. I knew like Dad before me I would have to deal with the rest of it.

It was time to face the inevitable … the infamous Father/son "talk" ... the facts of life ... Jeff Tracy style.

It took me a week to work out in my head exactly what I was going to say to him. I remembered the talk I'd had with Dad on the tractor and I swore I didn't ever want to subject my sons to something like that.

Dad had been so clinical ... "this is why it's done son"; so forthright... "this is how it's done" and so matter of fact ..."and this is the consequence if you do it ."

I wanted to Scott to know more than that and feel comfortable asking me questions about his body and what was happening to it. Dad had declined to answer any of my questions and I'd never been happy about that. I told myself things were going to be different with my boys and I would be prepared to answer any question they wanted to ask me.

I guess, for the want of a better word I wanted to be a "hands on", "upbeat" Dad.

With this in mind I slipped out of my Office one afternoon and headed to the nearest drug store. Part of the lecture was going to be about how a man protected himself if he needed to, Lord knows I'd learnt my own lesson the hard way, and I had decided it would be easier for Scott to understand me if I actually showed him what I was talking about. Package in hand I made my way home at the end of the day resigned to fulfilling my Fatherly responsibilities.

That night was like a comedy of errors unfolding.

It began not long after I got home with Alan very kindly "opening" the package for me when I was in the shower. By the time I was finished in the bathroom he'd opened the box, carefully examined the contents and taken it downstairs to his Grandmother. As you can imagine Mother nearly had a heart attack, quickly impounded the box and declined to answer any of his questions. Nothing was said until after Dinner when I went to get up from the table to return to my work.

"I believe I have something which belongs to you Jeff." she said rising to her feet and heading in the direction of the kitchen. I followed her with interest but my interest quickly turned to embarrassment when she reached up on top of the refrigerator and produced the box.

My face went one hundred shades of red when I saw it.

"Don't ask me how but your youngest son found them." she said shoving it into my hand.

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"Now Jeff ... I know it's none of my business and to be honest with you I'm very glad you're ... well ... socialising again ... but I really don't think you should be leaving things like this lying around for your sons to see."

I looked at her. What did she mean socialising again? I never went anywhere unless it was on Company business. After a few minutes the realisation dawned and I reddened further. "Mom ... they're… they're not mine ..." I began completely flustered.

Mother held up her hand. "Jefferson ... you don't have to explain yourself to me ..." she continued. "Like I said ... in a lot of ways I'm glad for you."

Now how does a man of forty explain to his Mother that he hasn't had sex in five years and isn't actively looking to have it in the foreseeable future either? Answer - with a great deal of difficulty. Mother had been pestering me to start dating again for the past two years and just couldn't get her head around the fact that I didn't want to replace Lucy. The sight of a package like this must have really lifted her spirits. If I hadn't been so embarrassed at the situation I'd found myself in, I think I might have even laughed.

However I eventually talked her into believing the box was in the house purely for the purpose of teaching Scott to be responsible.

"Well if you want my opinion he's too young to be even thinking about being responsible let alone being exposed to those … those things." Mother sniffed. "The boy's only thirteen."

In the disapproving silence that followed I pointed out Scott needed to be educated in the things he needed to know and if Alan hadn't have been so inquisitive she wouldn't even know I was doing it. Before she could open her mouth to argue again I put the box in my jacket pocket, excused myself from the room and called Scott to leave his chores and come after me.

Scott looked worried and glanced towards his brothers.

"Am I in trouble for something Sir?" he asked in apprehension as he followed me up the staircase.

Trouble was a most appropriate word for the boy to use but he wasn't the one who ended up in it I'm afraid. It was me. I don't know why but I completely fell apart when I started.

I mean, there was nothing for me to be nervous about right? I was only telling Scott what he was about to go through as he grew into manhood and what his capabilities would be at the end of it. It was all a part of life … the way the family name would eventually be carried on…a normal, natural thing for a man and a woman to do.

Yeah well it sounded like there was nothing normal about it by the time I finished.

To put it bluntly, despite his best intentions to be an "upbeat," uninhibited Dad, Jeff Tracy froze and literally "forgot his lines". This left him to fall back on the only other lines he knew... the clumsy, non-sensical words of his Father. Almost as if I had no control over myself out of my mouth came Dad's clinical ... "this is why it's done son" ; his forthright... "this is how it's done" and his matter of fact ..."and this is the consequence if you do it ."

Scott sat there looking at me dumbfounded. I'd just made it sound like the worst possible experience any man could ever have with a woman.

"Do … do you understand where I'm going with this son?" I stammered looking him anxiously in the face.

"Umm... I think I do Dad." he squirmed.

I sighed with relief thinking things were going well. My plan to be "hands on" Dad was launched as I nervously produced the box.

"Do you know how to use one of these son?" I asked him.

"Yes Sir." Scott replied but at my look of astonishment he quickly did a double take. "Err… I mean no Sir."

"Well." I smiled tightly trying to pretend this whole thing wasn't bothering me. "Make up your mind."

"No Sir I don't." he assured me and cringed in the chair as I proceeded to shove one into his hand as well as open one of my own.

I don't know about Scott but boy was I glad to get out of there. I felt like I'd been run over by a bus by the end of it and I really needed a long, stiff drink to recover.

But as usual not even that went right in this rabble I called a household. As I headed down the stairs to pour myself the drink I was met with the perfect end to a perfect evening.

"Daddy you tell Alan he has to share them water bombs with me." demanded Gordon as he wrestled with Alan against the side of staircase.

My eyes riveted on my five year old son.

"Water bombs?" I frowned. "Where in the blazes did you get water bombs?"

Alan reddened and shoved his hands in his pockets.

I walked over to where the two of them stood and held out my hand towards him.

"Hand them over Alan." I demanded with an insistent snap of my fingers. "I've told you before you're not to have things like that in the house."

"Aww Daddy." he scowled rummaging about in his pocket. "I wasn't gonna throw 'em at no-one."

I suppose I don't need to describe the look on my face when Alan handed over not one, not two but three of the items I'd just spent the last hour talking to Scott about. He'd obviously removed them from the box before taking it down to Mother.

"You'd better not have any more of these stashed anywhere is that clear?" I warned in exasperation, deciding right there and then I needed more than just a glass of scotch to settle my jagged nerves.

"No Sir." he sulked glaring at Gordon. "That's all I got."

Much to Alan's unhappiness I confiscated the offending objects and before any of the others started asking questions, shoved them into my own pocket.

The first scotch didn't help at all and I quickly poured another.

Glass in hand I flopped down on the couch and swore I was never going to put myself through anything like that again.

Then I looked at the ten year old playing with his computer game on the other side of the room and sighed.

Until the next time.

Fortunately the next time was still a good way off and I suddenly felt very grateful to Lucy for making me wait three years before we'd had baby number two.

But at ten years of age Virgil was already giving me more than enough things to think about and I was trying very hard to put into practice Dad's advice from thirteen years before.

A good Father needed to be blind, deaf and dumb when the situation warranted it.

And with Virgil I had one hell of a situation.

Up until now I'd been too absorbed in the Business to worry too much about what the boys were getting up to while I was away. They were always neatly dressed for school when I ate breakfast with them in the mornings and they were always fast asleep in their rooms when I came home from work late in the evenings.

Mother never said anything when I asked her if there was anything I needed to know about their days. All she ever told me was what was coming next, who needed to be where, what for, what day and for how long. If I couldn't fit it into my schedule she arranged to do it herself.

But she wasn't prepared to let me go back on my word once I had promised any of them anything. I was expected to deliver and deliver in full. Nothing was more painfully obvious than one Friday evening when I staggered in from work completely exhausted and told her I was skipping dinner and going straight up to bed.

"Oh no you're not." she frowned. "You promised Johnny you'd watch the big lunar eclipse with him tonight remember? The child's been looking forward to it all week."

Of course I had completely forgotten I'd promised and I immediately began to rattle off a hundred different excuses as to why I had to let him down. But resistance was pointless. I'd promised and Mother would see me keep my promise.

You see my Mother possessed another secret weapon to get her point across back then and that weapon was even more deadly than her straight-talking, matter-of- fact, down the line approach.

Her sweet grandmotherly voice.

"Now let me see dear…" she began in the sickly sweet tone, something I might add didn't suit her. "…how did that phrase of yours go again …you know Jeff … the one you tell your sons they should live by every day of their lives?"

I eyed her with disdain. I swear the woman should have been in the military and commissioned as Officer in charge of strategic war manoeuvres. She'd cornered me with my own words again and in such a comprehensive way I had no option but to fulfil what I'd promised.

"You know what the phrase is as much as I do Mother. "I growled light-heartedly. "A Tracy always keeps a promise."

She gave me a good-natured smile.

"Ah yes. That's it…fine advice Jeff…mighty fine."

It was hard not to be amused at such obvious manipulation.

"OK you win Mother." I laughed holding both hands up in the air. "Before you say anything else I'll admit I should be expected to keep my promises too."

"I knew you'd be thinking that dear." she acknowledged. "I'll go and heat your dinner and tell Johnny you're home."

I suppose you're wondering what this sequence of events has to do with the situation I found myself in with Virgil. Well it had everything to do with it. You see I'd also promised John he could view the lunar eclipse through a telescope and my old telescope was stored somewhere upstairs in the attic.

I toyed with not bothering to find it but one look at General Josie was enough to make anyone bother.

I hated the attic and I didn't go up there very often. It was pokey and stuffy and a man my height practically had to crawl on his hands and knees to find his way around. However if you wanted to find anything you hadn't used in over a year, the attic was the place you had to look. So there I was at eleven thirty in the evening; dead tried, feeling my way around under an old light bulb and looking for my telescope.

My eyes passed over box after box of old engineering textbooks, ream upon ream of notes I'd made during my time in the Space Programme and much of Mother's old memorabilia from the farmhouse. I eventually located the telescope but as usual it was stored in most inaccessible place possible. As I climbed over boxes and slowly inched my way towards it, I also saw something else. The old sideboard of Dad's had been moved and something had been jammed behind it; something I had never noticed before.

In response to my inquisitiveness I found a pillowcase full of sketches, dozens of them, each one carefully folded and placed in its own protective envelope. All of the sketches had Titles, some written in unsteady first Grade writing, others in perfect copybook hand. I knew only one of my children currently possessed handwriting of that quality.

Virgil.

The Titles of the sketches were simple and expressive, reflecting in only a few simple words the depth and magnitude of his feelings. Looking through the pages I could only sit in silent awe at how this child had been single-handedly dealing with his grief for over five years.

"_Mommy and me" _

Written in First Grade scrawl

It was a drawing of young woman holding the hand of a little boy; both with chestnut hair, brown eyes and great big smiles on their faces. The faces weren't the usual first grade standard. They had detail - detail I easily recognised. It was clearly Lucy and Virgil.

"_Heaven."_

More first grade scrawl and a picture of an unmarked grave shadowed against an eerie sky of grey. Virgil had been told Lucy was in heaven. I guessed he thought heaven was the graveyard.

"_A Present from Daddy"_

Written in second grade hand

A sketch of enormous depth showing Lucy's grave on her second anniversary. After a year of careful management and extremely hard work the Company was back on top again and I had been able to live up to the promises I'd made to her the previous year. The most expensive gravestone had been erected. A hundred red roses lay against it. The detail he had reproduced in the sketch was amazing, from the metallic gold lettering right down to the petals on the roses.

I opened one last envelope.

"_Daddy "_

Written as little as three months before.

The sketch was of me on my last birthday. The likeness, which he set in front of an abstract birthday cake with forty candles, was unbelievable. Virgil captured my sad far-away look like a master. The artistry was brilliant.

With the portrait was a verse.

"_Today is Daddy's birthday and I wish that he would smile._

_But God won't give him Mommy back not even for a while._

_I prayed all day for her to come but in answer to my prayer_

_God still kept Mommy in heaven._

_I guess he needs her there." _

"Jefferson are you all right up there?" called Mother.

"Uh yeah ..." I managed to croak, completely overcome with emotion. "I'll be down in a minute Mom."

I read the verse again and looked at the sketches in my hand. I didn't know what the heck to do about them. He was such a talented child and the sketches were wonderful but I didn't like the idea he was being secretive about them.

All of a sudden from out of nowhere came the words of my Father.

"See what you need to see Jefferson and forget the rest."

As I pondered on those words my own instincts as a Father supported the argument. The boy was only ten and I wouldn't talk to him about his Mother. His unusual expression of his feelings wasn't hurting anyone and more than likely as time healed him he'd come right on out and show the sketches to me.

After a long and thoughtful deliberation I decided to put the sketches back behind the sideboard. As far as I was concerned I had seen nothing.

Sadly I've continued to see nothing for twenty one years and hundreds of canvasses later. Virgil's hopes, fears and anguishes still lie behind my Father's old sideboard.

And the pain he felt when he lost his Mother.

And ... errr..... one or two inappropriate reproductions of an old girl-friend I wish I hadn't seen.

"See what you need to see and forget the rest."

Lord I did a lot of that over the years that followed. A man could list a thousand instances.

I "never saw" Mother frown when I called Virgil upstairs on his thirteenth birthday to receive his "talk about life". I "never saw" Scott roll his eyes as he watched his younger brother follow me up the stairs. And of course I "NEVER SAW" the two of them outside on the porch later that evening doing a dreadful rendition of "Dad's demonstration" and laughing their heads off.

I smiled to myself from the shadows as I watched them. They didn't know I was there. I guess they forgot dear old Dad had gone out for a walk. Some of the things they were saying and doing were terrible but I wasn't about to interfere with their fun. Boys would be boys I supposed and at least I'd gotten the message across.

It was also around this time I learnt lesson number two.

"A good Father needs to be deaf when the situation warrants it."

Boy oh boy has Jefferson Tracy needed to be deaf at times.

Scott was a terrific kid. He was sixteen now, tall and handsome with a wealth of dark hair and the most dazzling dark blue eyes. He was extremely popular at school, especially with the girls, and after seeing some of the more err… well-rounded ones he brought home, both Mother and myself began to worry he might have started to think about putting "Jeff Tracy's talk about life" into practice.

Mother watched him like a hawk.

But no matter what he might or might not be planning, Scott was a first and fore mostly a Father figure. He loved his little brothers deeply and was fiercely protective of them. The four younger boys looked up to Scott and much to my disappointment at times, preferred to confide in him when they had a problem.

I guess I shouldn't say I was disappointed. The younger ones had no option but to turn to Scott.

I was really working myself to death with the Company now. I was in New York more often than I was in Boston and I regularly travelled overseas. I enjoyed the work and it had made me very wealthy but the down side to it all was I rarely saw the boys. Lately it had really started to bother me. Every time I was home one of them seemed to have changed or grown taller and it was fast becoming obvious my little boys were growing up and had reached an age where they needed their Father around for guidance

Scott took it on himself to fill my shoes and he certainly filled them admirably. Mother never had to worry about the boys coming home from school. Scott made sure they did. She never had to nag anyone about homework. Scott made sure it was done. She never had to referee arguments. Scott took care of that too.

I had to admit I was grateful to the generous, kind hearted boy for everything he did, but the role he was fulfilling filled me with regret. At sixteen he was far too young to be burdened with so much responsibility. Mother didn't give me much support either when I tried to share my concerns.

"What do you expect Jeff? The boy was changing diapers at the age of nine." was the response. "His whole life has been about responsibility."

But whilst I was worried about my eldest son being overly responsible, my current concern was the unruly behaviour of the youngest two.

Gordon, aged eight and Alan, aged seven were a real hand full at the moment and the pair of them were in trouble with me so often I had begun to wonder how they had survived to make it this far. From the moment they woke up in the morning until the moment their heads hit the pillow they were up to mischief.

Gordon was fun-loving and adventurous. Alan was bad-tempered and wild. Together they made one heck of a dangerous combination and when you added me, the workaholic Father who didn't tolerate any nonsense, I'm sure you can imagine the fireworks. Mother called my bedroom the revolving door and she wasn't far off the mark with that observation. I was spending nearly all my free time either reasoning with them or disciplining them. It was driving me crazy.

"If I have to tell either of you just one more time to behave yourself I swear you won't be able to sit down for a week." I rumbled eyeing them up and down.

"I mean it!!!" I added a few moments later.

Naturally the wild one wanted to argue.

"But Daaaddy …" he started.

"Don't you even THINK about speaking Alan." I thundered dangerously. "You two might think it was funny dyeing Mrs Rogers' cat orange but I most certainly do NOT."

I looked at the red-head and waited for the desired response.

"Sorry Sir." came the "repentant" reply.

Then I looked expectantly at the blonde. He kicked at the carpeting and said nothing.

"ANSWER ME ALAN !!!" I roared in frustration.

"You said not to speak Daddy." he pouted. "I was only doin' what you told me."

I rolled my eyes at him and then glared. Once of these days...

The lecture finished with the usual gruff commands. They were to take themselves next door immediately, apologise to Mrs Rogers our long suffering neighbour and offer to pay for the cat to be professionally shampooed. I said I didn't care if the cat didn't get hurt or they thought being orange gave it charisma. I didn't care if it was only meant to be a joke either. It was wild, unruly behaviour, it wasn't funny and I wasn't tolerating it.

The next afternoon I decided pack up my desk and finish at the Office early. I had a lot of things on my mind and I was finding it difficult to concentrate. For one thing the continued discipline problem was really starting to get me down. I was tired of doing nothing but bawl out my boys. They were good kids at heart and their pranks were generally harmless but I just couldn't ignore them and allow them to run wild. Each new prank was more intricate and more extreme than the last and it worried me what dreadful thing they might get up to next.

It's hard to design and focus on business when you're preoccupied with family matters and the boys had not been the only matters on my mind. I'd also been mulling over the direction I wanted my life to head. At forty two I was once again unsettled and very very unhappy.

Mother's face was a mirror of frozen shock when she saw me walk through the door with a bottle of her favourite wine in my hand for dinner. I hadn't come home early in nearly seven years.

"Jeff!!! What a lovely surprise!!!" she exclaimed as I put down my briefcase, handed her the wine and kissed her on the cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Enough of the sarcasm Mom. " I replied picking up the mail and thumbing through it. "You're always telling me I'm never home."

She smiled at me.

"Well it's nice to see you here anyway. The boys will be delighted to have the chance to spend some time with you."

I smiled absently and opened all the new accounts. It had been a long time since I'd thrown a baseball.

The house was deathly quiet and silence of any kind was very unusual. It was normally like down town Manhattan when the boys were home. I glanced up at the clock as I took off my suit coat and seated myself at the bench. It was nearly six o'clock.

"Where is everyone anyway?" I enquired leaning forward to steal a taste of the chocolate fudge cake she was mixing.

After receiving a slap on the fingers and a reminder to watch my manners, Mother reported the individual whereabouts of each child. Alan and Gordon were outside in the garden somewhere, Virgil and John were still at the library and Scott had called to say he was on his way home from football practice.

I nodded absently and looked around the room. After a few moments I glanced at my Mother and quickly looked away again. Mother put down her spoon, took her apron off and came to sit beside me.

She leaned forward deliberately and fixed her eyes on mine.

"All right. Out with it then." she said.

"What?" I enquired, opening my eyes wide and pretending to be surprised.

"You know what Jeff."

I shook my head in amazement. She was as perceptive as Lucy when it came to the hidden agenda.

"Yeah… well ...I… err… do have a couple of things on my mind I'd like to run past you Mom. "I fidgeted nervously.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" was the comment followed by an arch of the eyebrows. "I know you don't come home early for nothing."

I gave her a sheepish grin before I continued. I wasn't aware I was so predictable.

"Well Mom it all kind of started when I was reading the financial pages of the New York Times this morning." I began. "Tracy Enterprises is now considered to be one of the top twenty companies in the world."

I paused as much for effect as anything else but I don't think I needed to bother. Mother didn't seem overly impressed with the achievement.

"And so it should be Jeff. You've worked yourself into the ground for nearly eight years to get it there." she replied.

Her indifferent attitude to the success of the Company wasn't making what I wanted to say any easier.

"Yeah I have worked hard." I acknowledged. "But reading about it kind of drove a few things home. I've managed to get the Company right back up there again, but I've spent far too much time away from the boys in order to do it. I guess that's why I'm having so much trouble with Gordon and Alan at the moment."

"Oh Jeff you worry too much. Their pranks are harmless most of the time." she scoffed but then her mood changed and she became pensive. "But I do agree they only get into mischief because you're never home to distract them with something else."

The thought came to my mind once more; _it had been a long time since I'd thrown a baseball. _I guessed you couldn't play baseball with your kids when you came home after midnight every night seven days a week, that is, if you even bothered to come home at all. I rubbed the back of my neck with guilt counting the number of nights I'd spent this month sleeping in the makeshift bed in my Boston Office.

"I know Mom and that's why I've decided to do something about it."

Taking a deep breath, I looked her straight in the eye and broke the news.

"I've made a decision Momma. I've decided to relocate my Offices to New York and when I do the family is moving there too."

Her face fell to the floor and I swear she didn't breathe for at least sixty seconds. Move to New York was the last thing she expected me to do. I began to worry at her total lack of response and as I always did when I knew she wouldn't approve of something, I blindly began to justify myself.

"Momma let's face it; I already spend most of my time in New York and I'll get to see much more of the boys if we move there. You said yourself I need to spend more time with them and the discipline problem proves it."

The look on her face told me it was wise not to say anything further. Mother had already undergone one complete relocation. She was settled in Boston now and I knew she didn't like New York. I was also mindful she was in her sixties and had become very set in her ways. She hated change. I looked at her and waited for the argument. To my surprise an argument didn't eventuate. All she did was look at me with that worried expression she gets.

"Leaving Boston won't be easy for you Jefferson." she commented quietly.

"What do you mean by that?" I frowned. "Moving is inconvenient Mother but it's certainly not difficult."

Her eyes were steady.

"You'll have to leave Lucy behind."

My own face fell. It had been seven and a half years now and the searing pain I felt whenever her name was mentioned still cut me right to the bone.

"I know." I murmured looking away.

Mother waited for a few moments before reaching forward to take my hand.

"Jeff, after seven years I'm sure she would understand it's time for you to go."

I miserably contemplated the words. I still loved Lucy with all my heart. I didn't want to leave her but I knew I had to.

"Oh sweetie … "Mother sighed at my sad and unhappy face. "How much longer are you going to keep doing this to yourself?"

"What?" I shrugged only half listening.

"Blame yourself for what happened to your little girl."

My stomach began to hurt. No matter how many years rolled by I would never forgive myself for what happened to Lucy Evans. Every time I looked at Alan, the child who should never have been, I remembered all the blood and blamed myself.

"I don't know ma'am." I responded looking everywhere but at her.

I never realised how much noise a ticking clock could make until I sat at that bench with Mother squeezing my hand.

"Jeff …honey ... you don't have to keep punishing yourself for what happened to Lucy. It wasn't your fault." she stated gently but very, very firmly. "You deserve more out of life than this dreadfully lonely existence."

The clock continued to tick and I didn't say anything. She knew I wasn't going to listen to her. She had been trying to get me to listen for seven years. But as always she patted me on the back with her free hand and tried to brighten things up.

"Anyway I think moving to New York is a fine idea and will definitely be a move in the right direction for this family. It's going to be the start of a whole new life for you Jeff and who knows who you might meet along the way. After all…" she paused and winked. "New York is where my Momma and Daddy met. "

Much to my horror I felt my eyes begin to burn. There she was again, suggesting in her round about way I needed to find someone else … fall in love again … remarry. I knew she meant well but I absolutely hated the innuendo. My defences rose immediately.

"I'm not moving to New York to improve my love life ma'am." I snapped, snatching my hand away and rising to my feet. "I'm moving to accommodate my children."

Mother paled at my agitated expression.

"Sweetie... I only meant …" she called after me as I stalked angrily out of the kitchen and headed for the garden. I didn't turn around. I didn't care what she meant. I still loved Lucy and I wasn't leaving Boston because I wanted to look for someone to replace her.

The evening was warm and the sun was beginning to set over the city I had called home for over ten years. The garden was beautiful but despite the relaxing environment of flowers and intricate fountains which beckoned, I stood in the doorway and glanced about unhappily.

There was the neighbour's cat …poor trusting thing ... still orange … sitting under a tree. It was watching me carefully. I walked over and bent down to stroke it. Running my hand through the soft fur was comforting and it allowed me to dwell freely on my thoughts. I didn't move for ages. After a while I felt the tinge of a smile steal across my face. Gordon was right. Being orange did give the cat a lot more charisma. It was a really ugly cat otherwise.

"Oh Luce listen to me. Now he's got me thinkin' like you too." I thought to myself reminiscing about the day we made our fourth son in amongst the hay-bales. "You were just so mischievous that day baby. Nothing but downright mischievous."

My smile was sad but memories of her teasing me about other men and how childishly I had reacted made me feel so much better. Eventually I rose to my feet and wandered about with my hands in my pockets trying to get my head together.

As night started to fall I had fully convinced myself my decision to move was right. Lucy may not be able to come with me but she would still be there. No matter where I went or whatever I did I knew she would still be there. I only had to look at my sons to see her.

My attention and melancholy mood were soon diverted by a loud ruckus at the back of the garden. The ruckus was followed by a voice of fury. I startled and looked in the direction of the noise. It appeared to be coming from behind the huge pile of firewood stacked neatly near the fence.

"Are you pair **_CRAZY????_**"

The voice was easily recognisable. It was the only other fully broken voice in the Tracy household. I frowned and moved without a sound in the direction of the firewood. Scott must have come in from football practice the back way and in doing so had unwittingly stumbled on something which made him mighty unhappy.

"I can't believe how stupid you are." he stormed. "Do you know what'll happen to you if Dad finds out?"

My ears pricked up and I edged my way out of view. If Dad finds out what?

"He won't find out." said one voice.

"Yeah Scott who's gonna tell him huh?" said the other.

"You wanna know who's gonna tell him you little smart ass?" Scott thundered. "**_ME_** that's who."

I instantly reddened with frustration. It figured. Gordon and Alan were at it again. I went to open my mouth to bellow but my instincts told me to hold my tongue and listen. I had an inkling I was about to hear something more.

Well I heard something more all right…more than any self-respecting Father needed to hear when he was debating whether he should move his family so he could keep an eye on them.

"Oh no you won't." challenged Alan. "If you do I'll tell Dad you were in the bathroom with that girl last week."

My eyes widened.

Bathroom????

**Girl????? **

**_What girl?????????_**

"Don't you threaten me Alan." came the growl of warning. "I'll bust both your asses from here to the Mexican Border if you even think about it."

"Well we will if you tell Dad about us." Gordon warned in return.

"Yeah Scott."

"For your information Adelaide and I weren't doing anything in the bathroom."

"Oh yes you were." shot Gordon. "You had the door locked."

"It doesn't mean we were doing anything."

"Yes it does. I HEARD you."

"That's got nothing to do with this. You guys shouldn't be smoking. You're not even old enough to be out of diapers."

"We ARE old enough."

"Both of us!!!"

My eyes got bigger still.

_**Girls behind locked doors?????????**_

_**Smoking??????????**_

"Anyway Scott you used to smoke." accused Alan.

"That was different." was the flat response.

"How was it different?" argued Gordon.

"I was fifteen and in High school." Scott snarled. "And besides I stopped doing it after a couple of weeks because I realised it was dumb."

"That's not what Virgil said."

"He said you stopped because you got busted."

"Virgil's wrong. I did **NOT** get busted."

"Yes you did."

"**NO** I did not. Like I said I stopped smoking because it was a dumb and expensive thing to do."

"You only stopped smoking Scott because Grandma made you smoke a whole packet straight."

"Yeah and after the last one you threw up everywhere."

I didn't think my eyes could get much bigger.

_Mother **KNEW **and she did **WHAT?**_

I was too stunned to move which was probably just as well. Everything inside me screamed out to haul all three of those boys upstairs for a long overdue date with my belt.

Then one by one Scott came out with the Fatherly strategies which would make any man proud.

_The voice of reason._

"Look you guys I'm tellin' you straight. If you keep smoking someone's gonna find out about it and if it's Dad you know what's gonna happen to you."

No luck.

_Then the voice of concern._

"Come on. Surely you don't want to get it from him again do you? Dad's belt really hurts."

Still no luck.

_And then the voice of authority coupled with a big brotherly slamming of both of them into the wood pile. _

"Smoking is **_bad_ **for you and if I _ever _catch **_either _**of you doing it again I'll personally knock your _**both** _your Goddamn lights out. Is that **_clear_**?"

I was completely astounded. All I could see was the outline of Scott's six foot frame grasping Alan's collar in one hand and Gordon's collar in the other.

Wood lay strewn everywhere.

I think the two of them were completely shocked as it took more than a few minutes before they gave a timid reply.

"I won't do it again Scott."

"Me either Scott. Please let go of me Sir."

I swear at that moment Dad's words were the only things between me and those boys. I didn't advocate any of this sort of behaviour and I couldn't believe it was happening right underneath my nose.

"_Hear what you need to hear Jefferson and forget the rest"_

I stood there ready to charge forward and assert my authority. Scott shouldn't have been smoking and I was about to tell him so too.

And then came the voice in my head.

"_After being forced to smoke a packet straight do you really think he'll ever smoke again?_"

A few minutes thought.

OK but Alan and Gordon were far too young to get away with doing it.

Then the voice continued.

_"After being slammed head first like that into a wood pile do you think either of them will be doing anything to displease their big brother?"_

_A few more minutes thought._

Probably not but the part about the girl in the bathroom really had me teetering on the edge.

And then the voice really let me have it.

"_How old were you when you took Mary-Jane Riley out behind the church to "look at the view"? Sixteen wasn't it?_ "

"Nothing happened I tell you." I informed the heavens deliberately.

"_Then hear what you need to hear son and forget the rest."_

"Yeah right." I mumbled after more recollection and soul-searching about my evening with Mary-Jane Riley. Nothing had happened as we fumbled about in the darkness even though I would have liked it to. Mom, as usual, had interrupted things by calling me out from behind the church and demanding it was time to go home. I still remembered the raised voices of Mom and Dad in their bedroom after the silent journey home.

"You do something about him Grant. He's playing with fire as far as I'm concerned." Mother had demanded.

And Dad's gruff voice in return.

"Oh Josephine for goodness sake lay off the boy. He said nothing happened and I believe him. You gotta understand boys will be boys."

I turned on my heel to head back inside. If only Scott Carpenter Tracy knew how lucky he was. Memories of my earlier life had saved him. Memories and my Father's advice.

Mmmm....

You know in hindsight I still think I got that one wrong. I really should have broached the subject of that young lady with my eldest son. But even though I didn't I still ended up making my point.

"What are you doing Dad?" Scott stopped to ask me the next day as I knelt outside the bathroom door with a screwdriver in my mouth.

I looked up at him. "Taking the lock off the door." was my muffled response. "You don't have a problem with me doing that do you son?"

I laughed inwardly as I watched him redden.

"Umm …no Sir." he replied and hurriedly went on his way.

_"Hear what you need to hear and forget the rest."_

Ah yes my Father was a very wise man.

I accidentally got to hear so many things as my boys grew into manhood and those words of advice guided me to make the right decisions over and over again. They helped me to hold my tongue when I overheard things a Father shouldn't... the whispered words of wonder as my little boys changed into men … the secret confidences of experiencing first love…and ... as I walked past Scott's room on my way in from the office late one night, what had happened to a certain young Tracy son when his doting old Grandmother found out about it.

I didn't make a habit of eavesdropping on my son's private conversations and on that particular evening all I intended to do was put my head inside the door and say I was home. But once I heard the opening sentence of this conversation my feet literally froze to the floor.

"You dumb ass. Where were the two of you when she caught you?"

"We were in the parking lot."

"The parking lot? Not very original Virg."

"Well where else was I supposed to go?"

"Certainly not the parking lot when you know Grandma's coming to pick you up."

"Grandma wasn't supposed to come get me. Dad was."

"Yeah and like that makes a difference!"

"I honestly didn't see her Scott."

"How could you NOT see Grandma?"

"I was kinda busy OK?"

"Didn't you look around before you got in the car?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No. I didn't look around."

"You know Virg for a brother of mine you're not very bright."

"OK so I didn't look. We can't all be like you Scott."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So what did Grandma do?"

"Oh man. You don't wanna know."

"Bad huh?"

"You don't know the half of it. Do you know she can yell for an hour straight without takin' a breath."

"Gee. She must have been real mad."

"I'm tellin' you. She's sure cured me. I'm never touchin' a girl again!"

"Admirable resolution Virg but not very real."

"Real? You didn't cop Grandma all the way home. Now if you want real ...that's real. "

"That's what you get for being such a dumb ass."

"Will you stop calling me a dumb ass!

"Any other suggestions?"

"Scott if Grandma tells Dad about this I'm dead. You know what he's like about us respectin' women. I'll get it from him so bad."

"Wish I could help you out little brother but you will do these things in parking lots."

"Thanks for the sympathy."

"You're welcome. Any time."

"What do you think I should do?"

"About what?"

"About Grandma."

"You'll just have to keep on the good side of her I guess. You know ... offer to do extra chores and stuff. "

"Guess so."

"Knowing Grandma you'll be doing extra chores for the rest of your tragic life."

"I'd rather do that than have Dad find out."

I shook my head in the dark corridor and turned to walk away. There's a certain feeling of sadness a Father feels in his heart when his son grows up in the physical sense. Scott was in College and I didn't expect him to be innocent but Virgil ... Virgil was different. To me he would always be the frightened little five year old who wanted his Mommy to come back from heaven.

I went down the hall to my room feeling more disappointed in Mother than angry at Virgil. I had just spent half an hour talking to her downstairs and she hadn't said a thing about it. I guessed she felt the situation was under control. I still think she was wrong. I never broached the subject with her but I believe I should have been the one to offer Virgil guidance about the girl in the car not her. Making love to a woman was not something I wanted Mother to cure my sons of. I wanted them to understand and appreciate it was precious act and not something to be taken lightly.

Mmmm.

But it was still most amusing watching Virgil do all the extra chores.

_"A Father needs to play dumb when the situation warrants it."_

Dad's final words of wisdom.

I am actually quite averse to the term dumb. I think when my boys reach Fatherhood my advice to them will be worded differently. Rather than "dumb" I believe a good Father should never play his hand until the situation warrants it.

I've given you many instances of where I haven't played my hand yet, the ditching of the jet, the talking to the stars, the love tryst, the secret romance.... In many of these instances I'll probably never put my cards on the table but while I hold them in my hand my sons will always wonder. It's funny.

I really don't mind if the boys think dumb old Dad is not quite up with what's going on in their lives.

They can think whatever they want. Believe me dumb old Dad is.

But I also have a confession to make.

Jeff Tracy can also be extremely "dumb" too. Dumb as in the true meaning of the word. Dumb as in looking in the mirror in disbelief wondering how I could have possibly done something so brainless.

I have only ever done two really dumb things in my life and both of them left me reeling at the depth of my own stupidity.

The first was believing my Mother would love the "special surprise" I arranged in conjunction with her sixty third birthday and the second ... well…

Maybe I should just stick to telling you about the first.

The family had long since relocated to New York and moved into a spacious new home an hour's drive from my Offices. The house was state of the art with every possible modern convenience known to man and was so huge a person could walk around in there for nearly fifteen minutes and not see a solitary soul.

Mother couldn't believe the advanced technology built into the house and she was having a very hard time coming to grips with it all. The appliances in the kitchen sent her into a total spin, she became completely frazzled if she had to use the cleaning system and I couldn't believe the number of times she locked herself in the bathroom.

"You're getting too old Mom!" I joked showing her the sequence of commands to operate the inbuilt cleaning system for the tenth time in nearly as many days.

"I am NOT getting old thank you very much!" she sniffed indignantly. "You just watch yourself and have some respect for your elders. I'll get the hang of this."

We both grimaced as she proceeded to punch in the wrong commands ... again… and dust flew everywhere... again.

"Errr... eventually." she said tightly.

I laughed at her and hugged a very big secret to my chest. Tomorrow was Mother's sixty-third birthday and as far as I was concerned she would never have to worry about any of this again. I had arranged a special surprise for her, one I thought she would love.

Surprise … yeah …that was a good word for it. A surprise is something you don't expect and it was pretty obvious when I gave it to her that she wasn't expecting it. I have never forgotten the look on my Mother's face when I introduced her to her "surprise."

"Mom …" I began motioning the slightly built Malaysian man with the gentle smile forward to meet her. "I'd like you to meet my friend Mr. Kyrano. He's just moved to the States from Paris."

Mother smiled politely from the couch and reached out her hand and shook his.

"Mornin' Mr. Kyrano. It's very nice to meet you." she said amiably.

"I am most honoured to make your acquaintance also Mrs. Tracy." Kyrano replied with a bow of his head.

One by one I called forward and introduced my five sons.

"Scott's my eldest. He's heading back to College tomorrow." I explained. "… and young Virgil here is in High School. John over there is thirteen, Gordon's ten and Alan … Alan pay attention while I'm speaking please… Alan's nine."

So far so good. Everyone was nodding their heads and smiling.

I made the most of the congenial atmosphere to tell Mother a bit about Kyrano. I had met him about eighteen months before when I was dining alone in Paris. He was working as the head chef at the Paris Hilton and the two of us had struck up a conversation at the end of evening when he came to close down the dining room. I found him to be a very interesting man and I invited him downstairs to the bar to share a drink with me. We spoke for hours. I had been captivated by Kyrano's story of his past life, how he left Malaysia after losing his inheritance, the treachery of his half brother, his love of botany, his life in England, and the reasons he had left England to work in Paris.

That had led into a discussion about family. We found we had very much in common not only in values but in circumstances. Both of us were single Fathers. Both of us had lost our wives in sad circumstances. Both of us were struggling trying to combine the pressures of work and parenthood. Both of us loved our children dearly and wished we had more time to spend with them.

"Kyrano has a daughter Mom." I continued, happy to go on with the story. "She's around the same age as Gordon."

"That a fact Mr Kyrano?" Mother said warmly. "The Tracy family hasn't produced any daughters for well over fifty years. Just can't breed 'em I afraid. I wouldn't have minded raisin' a daughter myself but oh well … you love what you get don't you?"

"Indeed Mrs. Tracy." Kyrano agreed. "Children are a most precious gift."

"Would you like to meet her Mom?" I enquired moving across the room towards the hallway.

"Well of course I would." she frowned. "Don't tell me you've made the poor little girl wait outside."

"She's very shy Mom." I replied. "But I think I can convince her to come in."

I returned around five minutes later holding the hand of a very thin, very tiny little girl with long black hair and big brown eyes. Her hand was literally trembling in mine as we entered the sitting room and when she saw the boys, it shook harder.

"Mother. This is Tin-Tin." I announced leading her in. "Tin-Tin this is my Mother Mrs. Tracy."

"Hello Mrs Tracy." she squeaked in a small, frightened voice.

"My … you are a pretty little thing." Mother commented taking both of Tin-Tin's delicate hands in hers. "I'm very pleased to know you my dear."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alan and Gordon rolling their eyes at each other. We'd already had a discussion about Tin-Tin and they didn't want a thing to do with her. I cast them a warning glance to behave themselves.

"I'm errr… going to be paying for Tin-Tin's education from now on Mom." I said carefully, easing my way through the situation. "She's an extremely intelligent little girl and Kyrano needs my help to make sure she attends a decent school."

Mother raised her eyebrows and looked at me with surprise.

"Well that's very generous of you dear."

"Not really Mom … It's ...errr .... going to be a kind of a trade off actually."

"Trade-off? Trade-off for what?" she enquired.

I found myself automatically loosening my collar. Despite the house being fully air-conditioned it was becoming pretty darned hot in here.

"Well …ummm...Mom … I've invited Kyrano to America to come and work for me … and from today ... ummm ... he'll be taking over from you."

I held my breath but still managed to add. "Happy Birthday Mom. You can finally retire."

There was dead silence.

Now I have to give my sons credit. They've got a mighty good feel for when to pull out of a dangerous situation when they recognise one and I'm sure they learnt all of their skills in the sitting room on Mother's sixty third birthday. I've never seen a room empty so fast in my whole life, except perhaps tonight when we thought the kitchen was on fire.

"Excuse me Dad, I gotta go finish packing for college." said Scott.

"Umm and I think I'm supposed to be washing the car." said Virgil.

"I need to pack up my telescope." said Johnny.

"We gotta do our homework." said Gordon grabbing Alan by the arm.

"No we don't." argued Alan still with his eyes transfixed on Tin-Tin.

"Well you can help me with the car." Virgil panicked grabbing Alan's other arm and hauling him out the door.

Mother didn't even watch them go. Her face was a mask of complete anger and you didn't need an awful lot of intelligence to work out an explosion was imminent. I took two steps back as her face went white and her hands clenched. Here I was thinking she'd be grateful for the chance to relax and put her feet up and instead I was about to get the biggest verbal caning of my life.

Luckily she held herself together until after I'd shown Kyrano to his suite of rooms at the other end of the house. But the moment I returned to the sitting room she jumped out of her chair with the agility of a ten year old and cornered me with her hands on her hips and her blood pressure about to hit the top of the Richter scale.

"UPSTAIRS JEFFERSON!" she barked. "NOW!!!!!!!"

Now I'd been on this earth for almost forty five years and in my opinion I was getting a little too old to be treated like a child. I wasn't about to be ordered to my room by my Mother let alone cop a tongue lashing for simply wanting to give her the chance to have her old life back again. I told her so too. The way I figured it having Kyrano in the house would leave her free to come and go as she pleased and wouldn't she like that? No more shopping, no more laundry, no more cooking, and … I tried not to look grateful … no more fooling around with the new appliances.

But Mother didn't see it like I did. All she saw was I thought she was past her use by date and she wasn't capable of doing anything anymore.

"That's ridiculous Mom!" I argued. "Of course I know you're still capable. I just think you should be enjoying your life now that's all."

"What? Before I keel over and turn my toes up is that what you're saying?" she flashed.

"No. That's not what I'm saying ...and if you don't calm yourself down a bit you will keel over and turn your toes up."

"That man is not coming into my kitchen." she said adamantly. "I mean it."

You have no idea how long she carried on about Kyrano and even now I still bear the brunt of it at times. The Kyrano's have been with us twelve years in the fall and Mother still thinks she owns the kitchen. Luckily she's calmed down enough over the years to allow Kyrano to "help."

But most of all Mother really took to the shy little girl with the long black hair and big brown eyes. As she had said to Kyrano, she'd always wanted to raise a daughter of her own and Tin-Tin fitted the bill perfectly. She was in her element as Tin-Tin grew, spoiling her to death, offering advice and giving the little girl someone to confide in as she grew into womanhood. I didn't have a problem with that and in fact I welcomed it.

Until she came up with her current crazy scheme.

"They just fit don't you think Jeff?" she asked me one afternoon as Alan and Tin-Tin sat together arguing in front of the television.

I was reading the newspaper and trying to console myself with a glass of scotch after seeing Johnny off to College and I wasn't expecting to hear something like that.

"What do you mean fit?" I frowned looking at my gangly fourteen year old wild child and the pretty fifteen year old beside him.

"I don't know how to describe it dear. They just look right together." she said enthusiastically. "You know. Like you and Lucille always looked."

"They do nothing but argue with each other Mother." was my firm observation. "Forget it."

But you couldn't dissuade Mother. She had it in her head years ago my youngest son and Miss Tin-Tin Kyrano would one day be a couple.

I look down to the end of the table and try very hard not to admit she was right. These days Alan and Tin-Tin do seem to fit; and even though they still argue, they are very much a couple.

But then of course dear old Dad is too "dumb" to know about it.

I suppose now that I've got this far I may as well come clean and tell you about the other really dumb thing I've done.

This time I did it as a Father and it was past dumb. It was dumber than dumb.

This was without doubt the stupidest thing Jeff Tracy, the man, ever did in his life.

And what was it?

It was to give or should I say attempt to give Jeff Tracy's infamous "talk about life" to my two youngest sons…at the same time.

Dear God I'll never get over that night if I live to be a hundred. If any of you reading this are Fathers or intending to become Fathers in the next fifty years take Jeff Tracy's advice on board right now. NEVER ... I repeat ... NEVER explain the facts of life to two boys at the same time. Your life's not worth it. I mean what I'm saying. Jump into a river full of hungry alligators, jump out of plane without a parachute, drive a fast car with no brakes... believe me you'll still come out of it in better shape.

I suppose you're wondering how I could possibly have got my talk about life wrong again. Well I did and the reason I did was because I was too damned confident in myself. After my first clumsy attempt with Scott I was much more relaxed when I spoke to Virgil and with Johnny it was almost easy. John even asked me a couple of questions which I managed to answer. I was convinced I had it down to a fine art now. I didn't see there was a problem with telling the last two together.

But not those two.

What a huge mistake...

As I think I said to you earlier these two boys were a mighty dangerous combination. Gordon was fun-loving and adventurous. Alan was bad tempered and wild. After watching three older brothers change into young men before them they knew exactly what was going to happen to them over the next few years even though neither of them let on.

And unbeknown to me they also knew exactly what Dad was going to tell them about it ... and then do.

I love those boys dearly and most things they do make me chuckle but I have never forgiven them for what they did to me that day. I have never been more embarrassed in my life.

Of course it all began in the usual way. Gordon had been expecting me to call him upstairs ever since he'd turned thirteen and it came as no surprise when I asked him to remain behind at the table after dinner for the talk. Alan on the other hand wasn't expecting it at all but he more than happily stayed when I told him this was intended for his ears too.

And then I began.

I was floored. I've seen some good acts in my time but my two boys take the Oscar for an outstanding performance. I've never seen two kids act so uninformed about anything. The worst part was I believed them. They gave me the most surprised looks when I cleared my throat and asked them if they knew anything about how their bodies would change in the next few years.

"No Sir." said one.

"No Sir." said the other.

I actually felt sorry for them at that point. I decided they must have been too busy playing pranks to observe their brothers changing right in front of their eyes. As a result I systematically went through everything like a military drill even to the point of using my middle finger to list the changes. If I hadn't have been so preoccupied with not missing anything I would have seen the two of them grinning at each other each time I touched my finger. I asked them if they had any questions. Naturally they did.

"So Dad." came the query. "When all the growing's done does everyone end up the same?"

"What do you mean the same Gordon?" I frowned.

"Well Sir ... it's sort of like your middle finger isn't it? Yours is longer than mine at the moment. When I stop growing will our fingers be the same length?"

I'm so stupid. I thought he was making reference to the size of our hands. When I openly replied finger length varied mainly due to diet and bone structure they both burst into laughter and eagerly compared their middle fingers.

"Mine's longer than yours." shrieked Alan.

"It's all in the bone structure Al." laughed Gordon.

I quickly put the lecture back on track. Those two tended to amuse themselves over the most menial matters sometimes. I carefully moved on to the subject of girls. This time I asked them how much they knew about sex.

"Not much Sir." said one seriously.

"Nothing Sir." said the other very seriously.

Do you know how hard it is to talk about the sexual act from scratch? It's not easy particularly when I felt I had to cover things from a woman's perspective too. But once again I systematically went through each and every step, inviting questions and trying to answer them... well most of them.

"How does it feel Dad?" asked Alan his dazzling blue eyes full of merriment.

Now there's a limit to what sort of education you give your sons and I felt I had reached the limit. I wasn't about to share that sort of information with a twelve year old.

"Let's just say it's one of life's better experiences Alan." I said tightly. "And you won't have to worry about it for a good while yet. Which…errr… leads me into the next thing we need to discuss."

Yes, it was time for the demonstration. The demonstration was preceded by a huge lecture about the importance of responsibility in a relationship and how steps needed to be taken to stop any unwanted outcomes. Please believe me when I say it wasn't easy for me to look into the faces of my own two "mistakes" and make a statement like that.

"Were either of us mistakes Dad?" Gordon asked with interest.

"You don't think somethin' like you was planned do you?" scoffed Alan shoving him sideways.

"And somethin' like you was?" flashed Gordon shoving him back.

I didn't reply to that one. If only they both knew. Instead I told them to stop fooling around and asked if either of them had ever seen the object I held in my hand.

"It's a water bomb." said one with a grin.

"Yeah a real BIG water bomb." said the other with a bigger grin.

"No you might think it's a water bomb boys but that's not actually what it is." I replied patiently still believing they didn't understand.

Oh boy. Then I had to try and make them understand. Back to the beginning I went as we discussed what it was, the use and the timing. It was a pity I failed to notice them idly wagging their middle fingers at each other the whole way through.

"Do they come in different sizes Dad?" asked Gordon for once asking a sensible question.

"Yeah like I need a large and he needs a small." Alan grinned waving his middle finger madly in the air.

It was only then I finally got it. I panicked and began to redden. Dear God... what had I been saying about bone structure?

Then it was open question time. That really finished me off. I could take the questions about themselves but I backed right off when Tin-Tin's private business became the subject. I nearly died of embarrassment when Alan revealed what he knew and I think I'm still recovering from the fact that he knew it.

Let me say this right now. My youngest sons are past mischievous when they are together. They are bad ... _really_ bad and after enduring the "Talk about Life" I came to the conclusion dyeing a cat orange was definitely not the worst thing they were capable of.

And I have never mentioned bone structure since.

_000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

**Stage 8 - The Founder of International Rescue**

It's hard to say when the idea of forming International Rescue first entered my head. There were a lot of contributing factors behind it. I suppose if I really wanted to pinpoint the time in my life when the idea came to me, I think it was the day I met a young Engineer who came to my Office in New York looking for a job.

I was watching a newscast at the time. A massive fire had broken out in a multi-story building and hundreds of people were trapped on the higher floors. I shook my head at the lack of direction the rescue authorities seemed to have. The objective I would have thought was to get the people out quickly. These guys seemed more obsessed with putting out the fire.

My attention was diverted from the screen to the door as my Secretary knocked and showed the young Engineer in. I invited him to sit down and, as I always did when I interviewed new staff, sat on the end of my desk ready for an informal but nevertheless in-depth interview.

He was very young, around John's age I figured ... around twenty two ... very slightly built ... wearing a pair of bifocals at least two inches thick.

He was nervous.

He stuttered.

And his name was Hiram Hackenbacker.

I remember trying to hold myself together when he introduced himself as immediately to my mind came memories of Dad's face when I told him Lucy and I were naming our baby Virgil.

"What sort of name is that for a Tracy baby?" he'd said in complete disbelief. "Why aren't you giving him a name that's more suitable?" Let me say I was thinking exactly the same thing when I shook the hand of the stuttering Mr Hiram Hackenbacker.

It was an interesting meeting; a young, shy Engineer only a few years out of College facing an Engineer who had taken a rocket ship to the moon and pretty well done it all.

"So Mr Hackenbacker. May I call you Hiram?" I began pleasantly.

"Y...Y...Yes M...M...Mr T...T...Tracy but m...m...my friends call m...m...me Br..Br...Brains" he replied.

"Poor man." I thought to myself. "Stuttering can be such an affliction. I'll have to see what I can do to help him with that. "

"I see." I said. "Well err... Brains it is. Now I'll be direct with you Brains because I'm busy and I'm a businessman. I've gone over your credentials and they are excellent. Valedictorian of your College. Already in receipt of your Masters. Writing a thesis for your Doctorate at the moment. So why does someone as gifted as you want to come and work for a man like me?"

"You ex...ex...excel in t...t...t...t... technology S...S...Sir." he replied fixing the bifocals on me.

I folded my arms and nodded my head. I liked this guy. He was young but he was very astute.

"Thank you." I responded. "I've always believed embracing new technology is the key to financial success in any business."

Brains didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on the newscast.

"They... they...they h...h...h..ave all the wr...wr...wr... wrong e...e...equipment." he commented quietly.

"Oh?" I enquired with interest. "What makes you say that?"

His answers amazed me. In those few minutes he had completely assessed the way the fire-fighting equipment was designed, what was wrong with it and what was needed to make it more efficient. My interest in Mr Hiram Hackenbacker intensified. He wasn't just astute. He was damned brilliant.

Within an hour I had appointed him to offside me in the New York Office. This boy had a bright future and I never hesitated to grab expertise like his no matter where it came from.

Within a month of working with him, I had the vision of International Rescue.

I suppose the rest of how International Rescue came to be is not that interesting. Brains and I worked many hours over the next few years designing what would one day become the basis of the Thunderbird machines. My time was pretty much my own now with the boys all gone.

Scott was following in my footsteps in the Air Force, Virgil was flying aircraft in Denver, Johnny had started work for NASA, Gordon was making a name for himself in WASP and Alan was in his first year in College. Tin-Tin had also left New York to study for a double degree at Oxford in England.

The big house in New York was a very lonely place at times and I was grateful Kyrano and Mother had managed to establish some sort of friendship over the years which enabled them to cope with the emptiness. Kyrano missed Tin-Tin terribly and like me, threw himself into his work trying not to think about it. My diary was so precise it was amazing and the house was so spotless it was abnormal.

But then the holidays and special occasions would fall due and all the boys would come home. Within an hour of their arrival the house was in an uproar again, laughter filled the air and it was like none of them had ever gone.

And it was now Christmas Eve and they were all here.

I overlooked the happy scene with pride.

My five little boys.

My five young men.

Scott now stood tall and proud wearing his Air Force uniform. He was so strong, so handsome, so confident. At twenty-seven he was me all over again.

Virgil laughed and joked beside him. He was tall and strong but he also exuded a certain gentleness only Lucy had possessed. At twenty-four he was a fine young man.

John looked about dreamily and took everything in. He was extremely good-looking with his blonde hair and baby blue eyes but at twenty-two he was still John. Quiet, alluring and unassuming.

Gordon had come home casually dressed. He never wore his WASP uniform in front of me because he knew I didn't approve of his career choice. But his honey brown eyes still sparkled with Lucy's mischief as he grinned away at his brothers. He would soon reach his twentieth birthday.

Alan swaggered around as he always did, still very much the baby and still very much wanting to be treated otherwise. He was eighteen years old with the same blonde good looks as John but with the most dazzling blue eyes and an arrogance which reminded me so much of my Father. Mmmm… it was a pity he wasn't excelling in College as much as he was excelling on the nearby race-track.

"What do you think Luce?" I remember thinking to myself. "I ended up doing a pretty good job for you after all huh?"

I looked over at Mother who was standing in the middle of them. They were all taller than her now but she still commanded the same attention and respect she always did. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. I'm sure she was thinking the same thing.

That Christmas, two years before International Rescue officially began was a Christmas to remember.

I invited Brains over for Dinner so he could finally meet the family. Brains fitted right in with the boys although much to their hilarity they all found themselves stuttering after talking to him for a few hours. Mother said it was all the alcohol they were consuming and berated them to start behaving themselves.

"Y...Y...Y..Y...yes ma'am." came the chorus of six rather inebriated young men.

"Jeff!!!!" she appealed to me. "This is most inappropriate. That poor young man can't help it."

"Ma'am. All I can say is I see what I need to see and I hear what I need to hear." I grinned. "and at the moment that's n...n...nothing."

"You're as bad as the rest of them Jeff Tracy." she frowned as the howls of laughter increased. "It's a damned disgrace."

But there was a serious side to the proceedings too and after most of them had errr.... slept it off a few hours later, I broke the news of the "Christmas present" I had given myself a couple of weeks before.

"You brought yourself what Dad?" asked Scott in amazement, his dark blue eyes like saucers.

"You got it Scott. I've picked myself up an uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

"Dear Lord." I heard Mother whisper. "Now he's going eccentric too."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"No Mom" I assured her. "Contrary to what you think I'm not going crazy. I've just decided it's time for Jeff Tracy to slow down a bit and move out of the rat race."

"But Dad ..." Scott continued. "Who's going to run Tracy Enterprises if you decide to hole yourself up on a tropical island?"

I began to explain things in more detail. Tracy Enterprises was a massive corporation and I could still run it very successfully from anywhere in the world I chose. I didn't need to be in New York anymore, pushing a pen night and day and driving myself into an early grave.

"And besides." I added quietly mentioning her in their presence for the very first time. "I've always wanted to prove something to your Mother."

The room fell silent more with shock than anything else. The boys looked at each other nervously. None of them were brave enough to speak. But Mother, who was almost as shocked as they were, spoke for them.

"What is it you wanted to prove to her Jeff?" she asked.

"Oh ... it's nothing really; just something which started as a silly little joke between us when we were dating." I shrugged." But one day I'd always hoped I'd be able to prove to her I could do it."

The whole room looked at me expectantly.

I shrank.

I really felt foolish now.

"Well for what's worth, I once told your Mother I'd end up being a billionaire one day and when I was I'd be able to afford to take her to live with me on a tropical island."

I immediately changed the subject.

"Anyway ...that was a long, long time ago and it doesn't matter to anyone but me. What I wanted to tell you all is I'm having a new house built out there during the year and once the house is ready, we'll be leaving New York for good. Brains will be coming out there with us. I'll be arranging for us to commute when necessary."

With that I left the room. I'd broken the news and now as I always did when Lucy was on my mind, I needed to be alone.

"I tell you - from Kansas to Houston to Florida to Houston to Boston to New York to God knows where!!! Your Father is NEVER happy." I heard my Mother exclaim. "You watch out Kyrano. He'll have us headed for Siberia next!!!!"

I pretended I didn't hear her but she was right about me not being happy. I hadn't been really happy for a very long time. Ever since I'd lost her.

And I needed her quiet, thoughtful advice right now.

International Rescue was the greatest project of my life and as with everything major in my life I wanted her to be a part of it. I didn't know if investing billions of dollars to make the world a safer place was the right thing for me to do or not. Only she had ever had that sort of judgement and she wasn't with me any more.

"Just do it Jeff." she had said to me when I wanted to found the Business.

Now I really wanted to hear her say the same thing about International Rescue.

And whilst I thought it was impossible, Lucille Evans made very very sure she told me......

One year later I was standing overlooking the bluest, most beautiful Ocean I had ever seen from the balcony of our brand new villa. I'd just finished an hour long video conference with New York and was taking the opportunity to relax and congratulate myself on a job well done. Things had gone very well and I'd tied up another large contract. I loved my new lifestyle. I was still doing the things I enjoyed but now I did them without the business suit, without the stress, and without the smog.

All we had at the moment was paradise.

Until Kyrano informed me I had a call.

"I'll take it out here thank you." I replied reaching forward to touch the screen and taking a sip of my drink.

A military man with grim features met my eyes. It was the last thing I was expecting.

I'd only ever received one other call like his call; Valentine's Day, the year my fourth son entered the world. All the blood drained out of my face as I listened. There had been a Hydrofoil accident near the base a few hours ago. Five of those on board were confirmed dead. The other two were listed as critical. They were Gordon ... and his young girl-friend Jezzica.

"H... how ... how bad is it?" I breathed not even realising I'd dropped my glass and shattered it.

"Well Mr. Tracy I don't know too much only that their injuries are very serious. I urge you to come immediately."

"Oh my God." I breathed and sat there uselessly. I couldn't seem to get my legs to move.

"Jeff?" enquired Mother who had come to investigate the sound of breaking glass. "Jeff is there something wrong?"

"Dear God NO!" I suddenly yelled loudly clenching my fists against my temples and beginning to sob.

"Oh Lord …Honey .... honey what's happened?" she panicked, grasping my arms and trying to get me to look at her.

I rose to my feet and staggered blindly into the house. Not my son. I couldn't be about to lose my son.

Mother followed me in sheer panic.

"**_For God's sake Jeff turn around this minute and tell me!!!_**" Mother nearly screamed.

"Momma it's…it's Gordon." I sobbed fumbling through my desk and trying to find my pilot's licence.

Her face paled and I saw her clutch the side of the table to support herself.

"What's wrong with Gordon?" she whispered in terror.

When I told her the news she nearly collapsed. Kyrano came forward to support her. Gordon and Jezzica had only been over here last week and Mother had just commented over breakfast what a wonderful future they were going to have together. I hadn't said anything. I was too busy being sore at them for "sleeping" in my bed.

And now ...

"I gotta get myself over there Momma." I blubbered making my way to the elevator. "They said he's not gonna make it."

With that I left Tracy Island in my private jet and in a complete haze of grief somehow flew myself to the Marine Hospital. It took me six hours to get there and it was six hours of pure torment. I radioed the Air Force Base in Nevada and asked for a message to be given to Scott. Scott was on manoeuvres with Red Flag but the Commander said he would contact him immediately. When Scott radioed back he was still in the air himself and his voice was barely a whisper.

"Father I've just been informed. Are you all right Sir?" he asked me frantically.

How do you answer a question like that? An afternoon in Kansas, walking hand in hand with a beautiful chestnut haired girl. An afternoon in Kansas making love to her behind the hay bales in a barn. Gordie had been the result of that afternoon. My precious little premature baby. My barn baby. A baby boy full of fun, full of mischief and full of life.

Just like she had been.

And she had been taken away from me.

Now he was going to be taken away from me too.

"Son I need you to contact your brothers as soon as you land." I managed to reply. "Tell them they have to come."

When I arrived at the hospital Gordon's condition had worsened. He was now listed as "dangerously ill." Jezzica Parker had died.

I was immediately taken to his bedside. The boy was a mess. His skull was fractured and his whole body was broken. He was on a respirator. His lungs had collapsed. His whole body was blue. The surgeons couldn't operate. They said he'd die on the table.

"He's doing as well as can be expected." the Doctor said. "There's every reason to be hopeful."

I almost allowed myself a bitter laugh at the irony of that statement. He wasn't even game enough to look me in the face.These Doctors amazed me. They spun that useless line past everyone.

"Look Captain just cut the crap." I snapped in a voice totally out of character. "Tell me the truth about my son damn you. I'm not some blasted fool you can fob off. I'm Jeff Tracy and I was in the military while you were still in diapers. Do you understand me?"

The young Doctor lowered his head. He was obviously not experienced in a tragedy of this magnitude and he was completely traumatised after breaking the news to the parents of young Jezzica Parker.

"Mr. Tracy. I'm sorry Sir. There's umm… very little hope from where I see it." he murmured. "The Lieutenant has suffered severe internal injuries and there's an awful lot of bleeding. Most people don't come out of that I'm afraid."

My eyes shone and I looked blankly around the darkened room. "Thank you." I swallowed trying not to think about Lucy. "At least I know what I'm dealing with now."

I slowly pulled a chair next to Gordon's bedside and took my cell phone out of my pocket. I certainly knew what I was dealing with because I'd been forced to deal with it before. I looked blankly at the phone. I didn't want to do this to her but I knew I had to call.

It was almost like déjà vu to the night I lost Lucy.

"Momma…" I swallowed trying not to cry. "I'm sending a plane for you immediately. I'm afraid it's Gordon's time."

_Gordon's Time_… I spat looking angrily around the room. How could it possibly be time for a twenty year old boy? At twenty I'd had all the time in the world. Time to live … time to achieve … time to laugh …time to love…hell I'd even had time to spend one more year rotting on that goddamn farm.

From the hall next to me I heard the muffled sobs of Jezzica's mother.

"She's was still a baby …" she cried desolately. "She hadn't even lived yet."

My heart cried out with her too as I listened. My Gordon was still a baby too …

The minutes and my suffering fell into hours. The respirator rose and fell. Gordon became bluer. The staff came and went.

"Why me?" I demanded of the heavens. "What have I ever done to you to deserve this? First you took my Daddy ... then you took my wife ... now you think you can just walk right in here and take my son away from me too."

"Gordon." I whispered focussing all my inner strength on him and holding his shattered hand in mine. "Please son. You have to fight. I know you can do it. I watched you fight for mommy and me when you were no bigger than the size of my hand. Please baby boy. You can't die. It'll kill me if I lose you too."

I don't know how long I sat there pleading with my son to pull through but eventually the others arrived and surrounded his bedside. Scott came still dressed in his Flight suit. He landed the Red Flag jet on the roof of the hospital. Virgil was with him. John came in a few hours later, pale and devastated. Alan, his favourite brother, arrived last of all.

Alan took one look at him and collapsed with grief. Scott, Virgil and John looked on stony faced. They had all been down this road before.

And then came Mother.

My heart wrenched to see her looking so old and frail. I swore she'd aged thirty years in the one day. But as always she thought nothing of herself and immediately tried to support me.

"He'll make it Jeff." she swallowed wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing the top of my lowered head. "You'll see sweetie. He's a Tracy son."

It was then he went into cardiac arrest.

And we all broke down knowing this was the end.

"Lucy." I sobbed in silence as the Doctors worked to resuscitate him. "If you ever loved me at all please don't let them take him. My little boys are all I have since I lost you. "

Mother simply prayed, eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks.

You know, I still don't know which of the two of us saved him; Mother with her prayers to a God I didn't believe in or my silent plea to Lucille Amanda Evans. Something inside me still says it was Lucy. But whether it was God, the Tracy tenacity for life or the intervention of the dead, Gordon Cooper Tracy survived and he survived to give me a message which changed not only my life but the lives of all my sons forever.

It came nearly two months later, not long after Gordon had woken from the coma.

"I know this probably sounds stupid Dad but Mom gave me this funny message when I was over there." Gordon rasped shyly. "She said I wasn't allowed to change the words because otherwise you wouldn't know what it meant."

I looked at the poor broken young man whose side I had rarely left for nearly two months. He had lost everything. Whilst he'd been fighting for his life he'd been discharged from WASP and blamed for the accident. I'd had to tell him he'd lost his beloved Jezzica. And at the moment we didn't know whether he'd be able to walk again either.

I didn't like discussing Lucy with anybody and I had been very upset when he told everyone he had "spoken" to his Mother when he was in cardiac arrest. But I was sure I could humour him for a few minutes about his imaginary conversation. I was willing to do anything to make the boy feel better.

"So what did she say to you son?" I asked pretending I believed him.

His honey eyes became thoughtful and seemed to change colour at that moment. Suddenly they looked like the bottomless velvet brown pools I had once gazed at with so much love and devotion all those years ago.

"Dad ... The message is "_just do it" because you know it will make you happy." _he told me.

Then he shrugged his bandaged shoulders. "Whatever that means Sir."

"What a strange message." Mother mused in the chair beside me. "But I have to admit it's the sort of thing Lucille would say." She looked over at me. "Does it mean anything to you Jeff?"

I simply looked at Gordon and then Mother in amazement and for a while I couldn't find the words to speak.

Did it mean anything?

If only they realised it meant EVERYTHING!!!!

She had given me her approval.

She wanted me to do it.

She too felt the world needed International Rescue.

If she approved of it, I knew it had to be right.

I rose from my chair and walked to the window to look at the evening star as it shone brightly in the darkened heavens.

Lucille Amanda Evans. My light, my star, my everything.

A beautiful young woman I met by chance in a crowded room in London all those years ago.

Suddenly I seemed to understand it all. Why things had happened the way they did.

I had been destined to meet Lucille Evans as a young Astronaut. I had been destined to fall in love with her and bring her to America. I had been destined to be the Father of her five sons. I had been destined to struggle alone and raise them to be the fine young men they were. I was destined to become the man I was today because my life had been touched by the special magic of Lucille Evans.

"_Just do it." _

Those words and the last words she ever said to me echoed through my head as I gazed with longing at the evening star.

"_Only ever you …"_

There would only ever be her too.

"You know I believe I'm going to do for you Luce." I whispered as the tears welled in my eyes. "You just sit back up there and watch me."

And the rest, as you know my friends, is history.

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_I hope you enjoyed the read and Merry Christmas to you all. I head off for a bit of a break from writing now but when I return, the final instalment of "Tales of a Grandmother:" will be posted._

**TALES OF A GRANDMOTHER - THE EPILOGUE - A GIFT OF SOMETHING SPECIAL.**

_Have a safe holiday season with those you love. Remember - never take life for granted... mcj _

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	18. EPILOGUE THE GIFT OF SOMETHING SPECIAL

_Author's Note –This makes me kind of sad but eventually the Tales must end. And what better way to have them end than with a gift … the gift of something special... mcj_

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**TALES OF A GRANDMOTHER – THE EPILOGUE**

"**The Gift of Something Special"**

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What an absolutely wonderful party and what a fabulous time I've had celebrating my seventy five years of life with my son Jeff and my five precious Grandsons.

Tonight has stirred up so many memories for all of us and those memories, whilst sometimes sad and difficult to dwell on, are all very very special. But as I said in the beginning, there's nothing ordinary about the Tracy family and they've always been something special.

There are many more stories I could tell you about Jeff and how he raised his boys but for now I think you have heard more than enough to know how we got to be such a loving, close-knit family. Besides that, my motto has always been "the less said the better" and let me tell you there are quite a few things about this family which are better left unsaid.

And so with Dinner now over and the celebrations coming to a close, I gratefully accept the glass of cognac Kyrano has handed me and allow him to escort me back into the lounge room on the security of his firm, outstretched arm.

"Won't you please be seated over here Mrs Tracy?" he requests in his warm and gracious Malaysian tone. "I understand from Mr. Tracy that he has a special surprise he wishes to give you."

I try not to frown when he utters those words but it's rather hard to retain my composure when I remember why. Those are exactly the same words Jeff used on my sixty-third birthday before he sat me on the couch in New York and introduced me to Kyrano ; his last little "surprise."

_"Happy birthday Mom. You can finally retire."_

I still feel the blood rush to my cheeks at the memory of those words and twelve years later I'm still recovering from the "surprise" too.

I refuse to allow the thought sour my mood and smile politely at Kyrano, seat myself in my favourite armchair and prepare to be "surprised" again. But as I sip my cognac and marvel at its rich, flavoursome body, I notice Jeff is conspicuous by his absence.

So it is my Grandsons who surround me, each of them holding out their own "surprises" and asking me to open theirs first. I look around at the five of them as they compete for my attention and find it hard to stifle an amused smile. They may be ice-cool and fearless in the face of danger but when it comes down to anything to do with their Grandma they become nothing more than five, rowdy little boys.

And I love them.

But then I have to admit it's hard to love any of them at the moment. All of them are arguing loudly and once they start, each of them as stubborn and self-willed as the other, it's hell and high water in the Tracy household.

"I'm the eldest. It's only right I should go first."

"Since when?"

"Since I took my first breath three years in front of you."

"Age has nothing to do with it. What ever happened to democracy?"

"The eldest goes first . That's democracy where I come from."

"And what planet is that?"

"Look I'm giving Grandma my present first and that's all there is to it."

"How come you're making all the rules?"

"I _will_ be making all the rules when Dad goes to New York."

"Yeah well you're not makin' 'em now."

I begin to laugh and hold up my free hand begging them all to stop.

"Boy! Boys! Boys!" I interject. "That's enough! "

Then the voice of command sounds from the doorway.

"Yes it is thank you boys." Jeff rumbles in his deep, authoritative tone. "There's no contest here and I might add you shouldn't be subjecting your Grandmother to your petty arguments at eleven o'clock in the evening."

After glaring at each of my Grandsons in turn Jeff strides forward into the lounge room with a purpose and as he does so, issues his instructions with the same precision he issues instructions during a rescue mission.

"Right ... Scott ... I want you to take a back seat on this one." he stresses firmly. "Let John go first for a change."

His eyes then fix on Virgil, Gordon and Alan.

"And the rest of you just pipe down. You'll get your turn in a minute."

With that he comes and stands beside me, placing an affectionate arm about my shoulders. The room falls into a respectful silence as the boys all take their seats. Jeff Tracy has given his orders and everyone knows to obey.

John tries very unsuccessfully to hide the gleam of triumph on his face as he comes forward and presents me with his gift. For once in his life the middle child has taken precedence over everyone and he can hardly contain his delight.

"Thanks Dad." he beams and then leans forward to kiss me. "Happy birthday Grandma."

I smile at the handsome young man Lucille once called her little star man and picture her face as she held him in her arms as a newborn baby nearly twenty five years before. She had been so disappointed he wasn't the little girl she wanted. But I often think about how Lucille would be feeling if she was able to see her little starman now. I'm sure there would be no feelings of disappointment.

Only pride.

John Glenn Tracy with his discerning mind and astronomical achievements would have made any mother proud.

I move away from how life was in the past and turn my attention to the gift.

The small cylindrical casing within reveals a miniature astronomy charting. The chart is easily recognisable as John's own work... neat ... precise ... accurate. Wrapped inside the chart is a velvet box containing an elegant gold pin. The pin is a one of a kind piece hand decorated with two tiny crystal replicas of the evening star. It is absolutely exquisite and a shining example of his affluent and sophisticated taste.

"Oh honey." I hear myself whisper. "It's just lovely."

He smiles absently at the compliment and eagerly leans forward to explain the chart.

"There have only been two times in eighty years when the evening star has risen higher than it's projected position in the sky Grandma. The first was the day and year you were born and the second was the day and year Mom died. Funny huh? Despite five years of research I still can't offer an explanation for either."

I look at him with love and remember the sad, frightened little boy whose only solace was to look up into the night sky and talk to the evening star.

_"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky and while she's there she will never ever die."_

John if only she hadn't.

If only she was here to see you now.

Virgil's voice suddenly fills the void.

"Grandma. Would it be all right to open mine next?"

I nod my head at the gentle, expressive face which so reflects all that once was and still is Lucille Evans. Big brown eyes, chestnut hair and an impish Evans face. You are such a gift to your Father Virgil and I am so glad he finally understands that now.

"I would love to open your gift next my darling." I smile tenderly.

He smiles at me in return just as beautifully as his Mother once smiled at his Father. He reaches to his left to hand me a large flat package carefully wrapped in signature brown paper. I don't need to guess what's inside. But as I remove the paper my eyes fill and my face falls, not in disappointment but in a complete and utter sweep of emotion which floods through my body and totally overwhelms me.

This isn't just another one of his paintings.

This painting is a masterpiece.

A pretty young woman with long brown hair and big blue eyes sitting on the steps of a farmhouse surrounded by the flat, yellow carpet of a Kansas wheat field. Holding the hand of the young woman is a tall, handsome young man wearing an old tattered hat, a pair of ragged denim overalls and a great big smile.

"Oh my." I breathe, my heart throbbing with a sentiment I haven't felt for a very long time. "I'd forgotten just how handsome your Grandfather really used to be."

My eyes overflow and I am forced to reach for my handkerchief. It's been a long time since I have allowed myself to remember the special love I once had for Grant Daniel Tracy. His body seems to reach out to me from the beauty of the canvas reminding me of just how wonderful our love was ...the yearning ... the touch... the intimacy .He always made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world when I was in his arms and no matter how old I am or how old I become, I will never forget how it felt.

My heart begins to ache.

If only I could feel the gentle touch of his hand ...

If only I could see him smile at me ...

Or hear his voice ...

Or have him brush his lips against mine ...

I lower my head and wipe my eyes. Jeff's hand gently squeezes my shoulder. He knows how much I loved his Father.

"It's just wonderful son." he comments proudly. "Did you copy it from a photograph?"

Virgil shakes his head.

"No Sir. I just painted it from the things Grandma told me when I was growing up. She used to tell me about the farm and about Grandpa and I guess I kind of guessed the rest. "

My eyes continue to gaze at the handsome, sun-tanned face and those beautiful dark blue eyes I had adored.

I had loved that tattered old hat.

I had loved those ugly denim overalls.

I had loved him.

I would always love him.

"I'll hang it for you in the morning Grandma. " Virgil promises, dragging me from my thoughts and leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. "Happy birthday."

My eyes shine as I squeeze his suntanned hand with mine. You dear, sweet, wonderful boy. Thank God for the gift of your Mother's talents Virgil and long may they give us all joy.

Oh dear.

With all the emotion of the moment I've only just realised it's Gordon's turn next.

I immediately brace myself for what I know is inevitably to follow. I know I shouldn't say this because he's my Grandson but nothing makes me more nervous than the sight of that boy's mischievous grin and thoughts of his dreadfully warped sense of humour.

Nothing.

"Now Gordon this isn't going to explode or make my hands turn blue is it?" I ask firmly, taking the long rectangular box from his hands and giving him a warning glare.

The child with the heart and soul of Lucille Evans looks at me with his honey-brown eyes and feigns to be hurt.

"Of course not ma'am." he replies indignantly. "What sort of Grandson do you think I am?"

Scott rolls his eyes.

"We all know what sort of Grandson you are little brother. Why do you think Grandma's asking?"

Gordon reddens and folds his arms defensively. "Geez, one or two little jokes and a guy's branded for life."

"One or two?" sounds Jeff's gruff voice followed by his deep, melodious laughter. "I think you need to learn to count boy if that's all you think you've been up to."

"Dad!" he frowns. "You're supposed to back me up."

"I haven't backed you up since the day you dyed that cat orange!" Jeff chuckles. "And I'm not about to make the mistake of starting now!"

My attention reverts back to the long rectangular "box." Lord knows what this lover of mischief and mayhem has dreamt up this year. I hold my breath and try to look in control of the situation as I warily lift the lid. But as the contents come into view my eyes suddenly become anything but wary and I let my breath go in one very big unhappy huff.

My face colours and my ire builds.

"Surprise Grandma!!!!" he grins opening his arms wide and allowing a smile to broaden his handsome features.

"Oh dear." I hear Tin-Tin murmur into Alan's shoulder.

For a split second there's a deathly silence but the silence certainly doesn't last for long. Alan, John and Virgil simply can't keep themselves under control and burst into hysterical laughter.

Scott certainly knows better than to laugh at a time like this and simply swallows hard.

"Err ... gee son ... it's errr ...a very nice thought." Jeff stammers glancing nervously in my direction.

"Isn't she a beaut Grandma?" Gordon continues to enthuse, completely oblivious to my agitated facial expression. "What do you think? Don't you just love it ma'am?"

I take a deep breath.

"No for your information I DO NOT LOVE IT young man!" I flash putting down my cognac and preparing to rise to my feet.

His face falls.

"Huh? What's wrong with it Grandma?" he queries sounding confused. "I thought all little old ladies needed a walking stick."

I see Jeff's eyes widen with panic. He more than anyone knows the signs of an impending explosion and they widen further when he hears my voice lower and start to become stern.

"Are you saying to me I _NEED_ something like this boy?"

Gordon finally realises I'm serious and takes a step back at the tone.

"Oh no... no... ma'am. Did I say that? No I would never .... never say that." he stammers shaking his head vigorously.

The rooms suddenly fills with laughter as I wave the walking stick in his direction and threaten him with physical harm if he ever suggests I use it.

"Gee whiz Grandma." he says in a sulky voice. "I was only trying to help you out in your old age."

"Sure you were." is the chorus from the lounge room.

Even Gordon caves in at that point and bursts into laughter.

"Well ma'am I guess I should look on the bright side. At least it kept your heart rate up."

"_Heart rate????_ " I exclaim frowning at Lucy's red-haired rascal. "One more word out of you and I'll wrap this walking stick around your hind parts young man!" Then we'll see whose heart rate's up!"

My frown instantly turns to a smile as he winks at me and returns to the security of his seat. How would we ever cope without a reminder of his Mother's mischief?

Once everyone has settled down again, Alan looks nervously at his brothers before coming forward to present me with his gift. His brilliant blue eyes are pensive as he holds out a small elegantly wrapped package towards me.

"Happy birthday Grandma." he says quietly. "Umm ... it's not just from me. It's from Tin-Tin too."

There's an immediate rumble around the room and an undercurrent of comments from his brothers. He reddens and adds. "I'd also appreciate it if you opened it later Grandma. What's inside is kind of private."

The rumbles escalate into teasing and it doesn't take long before his temper flares.

"Look you guys cut it out will you?" he flashes. "I bought it. Tin-Tin wrapped it. Don't read anything else into it."

"Of course not Al."

"Hey we believe you."

"What are friends for?"

"Especially best friends."

My own eyes scan the two of them up and down. My mind moves into overdrive and my imagination runs away with me. He knows what I want more than anything ... and he did say I'd be the first to find out when it happened... and she's been looking worried ..."

"I'll open it later." I say quietly. "And I'm sure whatever's inside is something I want and something very special."

He shrugs.

"I don't think it's quite what you're hoping for Grandma but I'm sure you'll like it anyway."

Jeff doesn't look too pleased about all the secrecy but luckily he isn't having anything to say about it for now. He gives Alan a suspicious glance before looking in Scott's direction and instructing him to proceed.

"All right son ..." he nods. "Your turn next."

I smile at my eldest Grandson as he hands me his gift. He is such a perfectionist that boy. The box is wrapped in the finest silver paper money can buy and carefully adorned with a large dark blue and silver ribbon.

"Now that's class big brother." nods Gordon in mock admiration. "Which Department Store did you have to get to do it for you this time?"

Scott's eyebrows knit together and he immediately rivets his attention on his red-haired brother.

"I'll have you know what's in this box can't be brought in a Department store wise guy." he frowns. "AND for your information I wrapped the God-damned thing myself."

After clearly making his point in same direct and no nonsense way his Father does he returns his attention back to me. Instantly the tone of his voice changes from one of annoyance to one of love and gentleness.

"I hope you like what's inside Grandma." he says tenderly, kissing my cheek and crouching down beside me. "Happy birthday."

I reach out my hand to touch his handsome face.

Scott Carpenter Tracy.

You may be the image of your Father young man but you still have each and every one of your Mother's beautiful traits ebbing in your veins.

The box inside the silver paper is inexpensive and as I open the lid to reveal the contents I find it contains little more than a piece of somewhat yellowed paper. I pick it up and turn it over with interest. The paper has been folded, re-folded and folded many times and is obviously something very old and very precious to the heart of my Grandson.

But strangely enough he looks uncomfortable as I unfold it and it is extremely uncommon for Scott to be uncomfortable about anything. But I soon understand why. The words on the page are carefully written in pencil and are the words of a little boy. One by one each word looms up at me from the page. This is the most precious, timeless gift any Grandmother could ever hope to receive.

_"My Grandma" by Scott Tracy_

_My Grandma is kindest person in the whole world. She is taller than me but not much. She has long brown and grey hair that sits on her head like a big lump. She wears glasses because she says she is as blind as a bat. Grandma used to live in Kansas on a big farm with a tractor but now she has to live in Boston with us. She sleeps in a big bed downstairs in the room where my Mommy used to paint and play her piano. Grandma gets up early every day and she does many things for me and my little brothers. She does lots of things for my Daddy too. Grandma is very busy and I try to help her when I can. I am not very good at most of the things she does, especially the diapers but Grandma says one day I will be good at them if I keep trying. I love my Grandma very much. I am very lucky to have her." _

"Oh sweetie." I breathe with tears welling in my eyes. "How old were you when you wrote this?"

"Nine ma'am." he shrugs.

"It's a beautiful tribute." I reply.

Our eyes meet and my mind goes back in time.

Nine.

A sad, motherless little boy trying to relieve the pain of his loss by diligently helping me tend to his little brothers. Would I ever forget how selfless he was as a child? How selfless he still was as a man?

My attention is suddenly drawn to the grading on the top of the paper.

"A "D"?" I frown. "Your Teacher gave you a D for this son?"

Scott nods, reddens and looks with apology towards his Father. "Yes ma'am."

"It was the only D I ever got in my whole life and I never told anyone." he finishes quietly.

I read the accompanying red scrawl pointing out the paper was supposed to have been about his Mother, not his Grandmother. Even though twenty years has elapsed and it doesn't really matter anymore I still begin to feel angry. How could any Teacher grade such a sweet lovely piece of writing with a "D" let alone overlook the fact the little boy had just lost his Mother in the worst possible circumstances? The woman must have had rocks in her head. I had a good mind to go down to that school right this minute and give her a piece of my mind!

Jeff's gentle touch to my shoulders brings me back to earth. It's eleven o'clock in the evening. I'm on Tracy Island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I'm no longer living in Boston and the Grandson in front of me is no longer nine years old.

"It's a damn disgrace!" I still mutter in a disgruntled tone. "Stupid woman!"

But as usual Scott keeps an even head about everything.

"Grandma please don't go building yourself up. The Teacher I got after the summer was new and she didn't know what had happened to Mom."

I look up at Jeff. His face shows no emotion. He knows he never took the time to go near that school to explain our family situation. I was always the one doing all the explaining.

"Why didn't you say anything to her son?" he finally asks.

Scott looks at his Father and then lowers his head almost as if he is being admonished.

"I didn't like talking about what happened to Mom Sir." is his quiet admission.

"Well why didn't you tell me?" his Father frowns. "I would have straightened her out for you."

Dark blue eyes lift to meet dark blue eyes.

"Dad. You didn't like talking about what happened to Mom either Sir."

The silence in the room is deafening. Five little boys raised in a military environment, not permitted a glimpse of a photograph, not permitted the imagination of a memory, not permitted the comfort of a name.

In the face of the truth no-one knows what to say.

But funnily enough for the first time in twenty one years Jeff does.

"Well son that was very true at the time but I assure you I wouldn't have allowed that paper to stay graded at a D if you'd told me about it."

Scott shrugs his shoulders again.

"The whole thing was very upsetting at the time Dad but it doesn't matter to me anymore. I just wanted Grandma to have the paper as a memory that's all."

His face reflects a certain sadness as he smiles at me.

"I meant every word of what I wrote Grandma. I still do."

"I know you do sweetie." I whisper. "You're a fine boy."

Now the heckling has really begun in earnest.

"Can you believe Scott actually got a D in something?"

"Mr A-man is a human being after all!"

"Took us twenty years to find out though."

"And **_HE_** had the nerve to bust my butt for failing in College"

"I would have done more than just busted your butt Alan if you hadn't pulled your Grades up !!!!" is the laconic reply.

"Yeah OK. Point taken. But from where I come from a D's a D Scott."

"And you sure got enough of 'em to know Alan."

Suddenly Jeff puts an abrupt end to the teasing. It's time for his "surprise."

He commands everyone to settle down and leave Scott alone.

He then asks all of us to take our seats.

Everybody obliges.

Once everyone is attentive he walks into the centre of the room and clears his throat.

Dear Lord, by the look on his face I think we'd better prepare ourselves. The man looks like he's about to address the nation and the last time he made one of his big speeches we all ended up moving out into the middle of nowhere.

Oh God what did I say to Kyrano back then about Siberia?

But as he begins to speak I realise we are definitely not going to be moving to Siberia. Jeff Tracy isn't a restless young man anymore. Jeff Tracy has finally found his niche in the world and is a very happy man.

"Mother ... Kyrano ... boys ... Tin-Tin ... I'm really glad you could all be here tonight to celebrate with Grandma. I know she appreciates it and I appreciate it too. It's been a fine meal ... thanks for that Kyrano ... and you too Tin-Tin ... and great music ... thanks a lot Virgil..."

He glances towards the portraits of my Grandsons in their International Rescue uniforms as they hang silently on the wall of the lounge room in front of him.

"And thank you to the rest of the world for not getting itself into trouble for a while so we could all enjoy the celebrations."

There is a general laughter around the room as he realises none of us have given International Rescue a thought for the past couple of hours.

I watch him swallow and I recognise the signs immediately; the excessive blinking, the shake of his head, the unhappy glance at the ceiling. He's not thinking about International Rescue at the moment. He's thinking about his little girl.

"And ... umm ... to all of you ... thanks for allowing me to sit back tonight and relive some mighty fine memories."

He swallows and looks out the window at the evening star.

"Mighty fine." he whispers.

Then he turns to look at me.

"Mother ... This is all about you and I want you to know I think you are a one hell of a great lady. You worked beside Dad on our farm for more years than I care to remember without complaint and without a lot of reward. You always looked on the bright side no matter what came along and the thing I remember most was you always had a smile on your face. Hell I can even remember you smiling when you nearly ran over Daddy with the tractor. Boy I sure remember that day all right. I still hear you telling him to stop his cussing and lighten up."

I nod my head and roll my eyes at the memory of that day in the wheat field. Stupid man had gotten himself in the way and wondered why I nearly ran over him with the tractor. When I stopped the darned thing and proceeded to laugh my head off he was furious. Grant Tracy was a mighty fine man and he made me very happy but he never had much of a sense of humour that was for sure.

"And did he lighten up Dad?" laughs Gordon.

Jeff looks and me and then at Gordon.

"Oh he lightened up all right. It was the first and last time he ever let your Grandmother go anywhere near that tractor."

Everyone laughs at the memory before Jeff continues.

"Dad was a great Father but he sure was a hard one. But you Mother, you were never hard. You were always something special."

I smile.

"Thank you. I think you're pretty special too."

He smiles back and at that moment is the spitting image of his Father.

"Well I might have been special but not according to Dad. Dad said I was a Dreamer and you always had to stick up for me and say there was nothing wrong with a man daring to dream. You said it was wonderful I wanted to be a pilot even though you knew Daddy wouldn't agree and still expected me to be a Farmer. I don't know how you ever did it Mom but somehow you persuaded him to let me go. I'll always be grateful to you for that."

I nod my head at the memory. It would have been wrong for Jeff to have stayed on the farm one second longer than he did and I know Grant never really forgave me for talking him into letting Jeff join the Air Force.

"And then ... well ... along came Luce."

I watch as Jeff looks slowly around the room and carefully takes in the features of each of his five sons. All of them have their eyes transfixed on his. He has never opened up like this before and to hear him speak of their Mother is like music to their ears.

"You said I was crazy falling in love with her and it would never work out. I told you point blank you were wrong."

He stops and gives me a pointed look.

"And just for the record Mom ... you WERE wrong about Lucy."

I laugh and look at my Grandsons who are all smiling.

"Yes for once I admit I was VERY wrong." I concur. "Very wrong indeed."

He nods.

"Yes you were and I'm not going to let you forget it in a hurry either. But even though you said it wouldn't last you went out of your way to make very sure it did. You were nothing but good to her when we got married and so hands on with the boys when they were born. We lived a long way from Kansas but you always seemed to know right when Lucy needed you. She'd be struggling with the babies and I couldn't help because of the space programme and all of a sudden you were miraculously there."

He stops again and frowns at me.

"AND I would also like to say at this point you also seemed to know exactly when to show up and poke your nose into matters which I believe were none of your business too."

I find myself blushing. He's obviously still never recovered from the blast I gave him in his Office over Lucille's health, a blast I might say was thoroughly deserved and completely warranted.

His face changes and now I watch him struggle for words before he composes himself and continues.

"And ummm ... when Luce died so unexpectedly and I was left alone to cope with the boys you didn't even hesitate about packing up your life and coming to live in Boston to help me out. I ummm .... know I didn't make it easy for you and I realise it was hell on earth trying to hold me and the boys up ... but I really appreciated it ma'am. More than anythin' on this earth. "

His eyes shine with love and gratitude.

"Momma ... you may not think you do but you still hold me and the boys up even now and I wanna thank you for doing it from the bottom of my heart."

He swallows again as the tears shimmer on the edge of his eyelids.

"And I know if Lucy could be here to say something to you right now, she'd want to thank you for everything you've done for me and our boys too ma'am."

His attention reverts to his sons.

"You see ... without Grandma ... well ... I doubt we would have made it as a family when your Mom died. I really wasn't the best Dad in the world back then."

There is silence in the room and no-one is more silent than I as I remember Jeff's terrible struggle to come to grips with losing Lucille and adjusting to life as a single Father. The grief ... the anger ... the denial ... the tears. Helping him raise those little boys in the face of so much sadness were the hardest years of my life but you know something?

I've never regretted any of it.

My son and my grandsons are everything to me.

Yes there was grief, and anger and denial and tears, but there was love in our home too and lots of it. Jeff did a wonderful job raising his boys alone. He just needed a bit of "advice" now and then when he lost his way.

"Anyway Mother ..." Jeff recommences in a shaky voice. "Without saying too much more I have something I want to give you ... something I promised you a very long time ago and something I've finally managed to get my hands on after all these years ."

He reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a long white envelope which he extends in my direction.

"Happy birthday Mother... and thanks."

I take the envelope from his outstretched hand and see the love and honesty in his eyes.

"What is it son?" I ask looking up at him.

He shakes his head and smiles at me.

"Now how about you just open it for yourself ma'am and see."

The envelope struggles under my impatient fingers and finally opens to allow me to remove the contents; papers; old, yellowed and partially tattered.

But as I unfold them my eyes widen with joy and disbelief. These papers are priceless; the most priceless papers in the whole of my world.

"Oh Jeff." I whisper clutching them to my chest, almost too overcome to say anything. "I can't believe it."

"What is it Grandma?" enquire the boys in unison each of them moving forward inquisitively to see what their Father has given me.

But I don't respond to any of them. Instead all I can do is continue to stare at my son.

"Do you think Daddy might forgive me now ma'am?" he asks, his own voice barely above a whisper.

I rise to my feet as I nod my head.

"Yes Jefferson I think today your Daddy would be a very happy man."

He nods his own head in return.

"I'm glad to hear you say that to me Momma. It means more to me than you know."

He comes forward to hug me and we embrace for what seems a very long time. Suddenly he holds me at arm's length and a wide smile steals across his face.

"So how's about taking a bit of a spin out there with me tomorrow?" he winks. "We could even stay a couple of days so I can get some practice in Momma."

"You know I'd really like that Jeff." I reply happily before looking in the direction of my eldest Grandson and clearing my throat. " Errr… hmm… provided of course Scott doesn't mind looking after things for you while we're gone."

None of the boys have a clue what we're talking about and all of them are frowning at the uncharacteristic lightness in their Father's voice. Scott is wearing the biggest frown of all.

"Err pardon me folks but if you don't errr… mind me asking, just where in the heck do you two think you're going?" he asks sternly.

Jeff eyes sparkle with mirth and for the first time in a very long time he sounds like he is truly happy.

"Well son I guess it's like this." he replies with a grin. "Your Grandmother and I are off to Kansas in the morning. She's got herself a wheat farm to inspect and I've got me a tractor I want to drive."

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_"The Prelude to Commitment"_

I look down at the tiny heart-shaped photo-frame in my hand and smile to myself as read the pointed inscription.

"The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook."

Alan and Tin-Tin's gift for my seventy fifth birthday.

In the frame there is a photograph; a photograph of the two of them together.

She is smiling, her long black hair cascading over her dusky shoulders. He is smiling too; that dazzling Tracy smile which highlights the blondeness of his hair and accentuates the brilliant blueness of his eyes.

His arm rests on her shoulder. Her head leans towards his.

They fit.

They are a couple.

And they I know I know they are a couple too.

But what they do not know is I know they are intimate.

They also do not know what an old lady prays will be the ultimate result of their intimacy and the special gift she hopes it will soon bring to her.

A great grand-child.

Tracy Island is silent now and the villa is in darkness.

International Rescue sleeps.

But they do not.

They lay locked together deep within each other's arms.

No-one must hear.

No-one must know.

But I know.

And only time will tell if what I pray for is really meant to be.

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THE END

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_Author's Note - It is only fitting such a story should end on New Year's Eve 2004 where tonight the Evening Star will be at one of the highest points in the southern hemisphere. I've loved writing every word of Tales. It has also made a bit of a character of Grandma who really didn't have much of a role in the show. I again say this is only my interpretation of events and it was never written to upset or incense anybody. Thank you for your reviews, good and in some cases, not so good. I have a new writing project planned for 2005 as well as continuing with Fences and Families. _

_I wish all FF writers and readers a Happy 2005. _

_Open your heart to all who write and embrace all it is they give you. _

_Regards - mcj_

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